


Why The F*** Are Pirates So Damn Attractive

by Reyna_is_epic



Series: Pirates and Officers Usually Don't Mix Well [2]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Supernatural Elements, cannon disreguard, some historical things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-11-08 14:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11083899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyna_is_epic/pseuds/Reyna_is_epic
Summary: You know what they say about how when you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up. Yeah, well turns out they’re lying right to your stinking face. Because surely, surely it can’t get any worse than this. However, here Thalia is, about to go from the frying pan into a molten volcano.~Thalia's been getting used to living as a Pirate. It's not like it isn't anything she hasn't done before. However, when you find yourself suddenly second in command to an entire troop of misfit pirates, things tend to get out of hand. With the threat of Hades still lurking in the shadows, things stop adding up, and darkness is on the horizon. Thalia finds that it's getting harder to breathe, she only hopes she'll be able to figure out what this whole mess means before she chokes.





	1. The Moon's Eyes

It all started out normally enough. Thalia had long since become accustomed to sleeping in the captain's quarters, and the musty morning air was a welcome scent to start any day. Especially when such scents and visions come with it. Scents and visions such as a sleep ruffled captain with her hair undone and strewn across Thalia's shoulders like a second blanket.

She can't quite stifle the laugh that comes rumbling from her chest at the notion, for Reyna is simply too much. She always has been. Now she's just a sleepy person who's grumbling and burying her face into Thalia's back, like that'll somehow protect it from the ghastly amounts of sunlight that are streaming in through their window.

"Get up Sunshine, it's a new day," Thalia hums softly into the pirate's ear and Reyna just grumbles louder, reaching down to pull the covers up and over them. Thalia chuckles again, she's always been more of a morning person than Reyna, but she guesses that comes from years of being trained to get up at the crack of dawn.

"If you don't get up, I'm going without you," she teases gently and makes out a half-coherent 'no' as Reyna moves to settle her head underneath the British girl's chin. "Cuddling me isn't going to win me over." Thalia reminds, but Reyna doesn't acknowledge the comment, wrapping her arms around Thalia's torso instead. She just chuckles more at the response.

"You seriously need to get used to mornings," Thalia mumbles, smoothing down Reyna's hair, but making no attempt to actually move. Someone will come and find them if they're needed, and it's really warm and comfy in the bed.

Not that the rush of wind and sea doesn't have its own charm. It does, and Thalia's come to appreciate it over the years. However, she has to say that she prefers the company of a certain pirate over the roaring waves. Reyna seems to agree, as she burrows further into Thalia's side. She's warm and smells like cinnamon and cocoa and all the things one would find in a tea house back in England, which Thalia finds both curious and comforting. She hasn't seen the country in nearly five months and as much as she enjoys the sea it's hard not to feel a bit homesick. But Reyna's always lived on the sea, so Thalia sometimes wonders if the poor girl even knows how to walk on land.

Now _that's_ a funny thought. Reyna wobbling around in the middle of the cobblestone streets of England, walking like a drunk person and clutching onto any surface she can find. It's enough to get Thalia to laugh and Reyna to grumble in protest to being bounced on Thalia's shaking shoulders.

"Why do you always have to be so awake," the pirate mumbles. Thalia returns to running her hands through the grumpy girl's hair.

"Because one of us has to be a morning person, Cheri," Reyna hums appreciatively at the nickname. The sunlight that filters through the window turns the Hispanic girl's skin a warm color like creamed coffee, and her glossy black hair reflects the sunlight like an obsidian stone. Thalia's never been quite able to figure out how she got such good hair with being around sea spray 24/7.

"Why do _you_ have to be the morning person," her mumbles aren't really conscious and Thalia knows that. Reyna isn't fully aware of anything until she's necked an entire pint of coffee.

"Because _you_ certainly aren't," Thalia snorts out and Reyna makes a face that is adorably close to a pout, but the queen of pirates would never admit to pouting. Ever.

"Shut up," Reyna mumbles and Thalia laughs again, which has become as much of a normal occurrence as breathing. So has kissing, and Reyna decides to do so right at this moment. She leans up and plants her lips directly against Thalia's own, who only manages a hum of enjoyment.

Reyna's still the same girl she was all those years ago when they kissed for the first time. The same girl who had grabbed her by the back of the hair and pushed her into a wall before she had even fully realized her feelings herself. It's just that now when she does it Thalia knows exactly what it's supposed to mean.

Reyna's hands have somehow found their way to either side of Thalia's head, making sure she can't escape when the captain rolls on top of her. She can't help but smile against Reyna's lips, and Reyna makes a grunt of displeasure at the loss of contact. To try and alleviate the grumpy captain, Thalia allows one of her hands to slide up the other girl's waist, and the resounding sound of content tells her all she needs to know.

Unfortunately, they're interrupted before this can start to actually go anywhere. There's scarcely a thump of warning from the door before it bursts open and Reyna hastily thumbs back onto the bed beside Thalia. It's Will, who's already seen enough that it really isn't necessary, but Reyna still proceeds to scoot away from Thalia leaving the woman to groan softly at the loss of her lover's warmth.

"What is it?" Reyna's sitting up, but her eyes droop and her hair is still loose, sticking out in ways that defy the laws of physics and are quite amusing from such a serious face.

"We're heading towards a storm Captain," Will's own hair is looking severely mussed, but Thalia has a sneaking suspicion that it has nothing to do with sleep and more to do with the blonde's disappearance with Nico the night before.

"You know what to do Solace, you don't need my consultation for everything," Reyna mumbles, but again it's only the sleep talking. If she were fully conscious she would already be out the door shouting orders at the crew. Instead, she's mumbling in a soft, gravelly voice because she'd much rather stay in bed for another hour or two.

Fortunately, Will is used to this situation. He grabs the covers of the bed, and rips them off, leaving the pair of them exposed. Reyna is wearing her sister's old sleep shirt, and Thalia... well Thalia proceeds to flop off the bed to keep at least a little of her dignity. Will doesn't bat an eye, in fact, he's getting better at that poker face of his.

"Captain, get up," he says exasperatedly and, with one more groan of protest, Reyna is up for the day. Will gives Thalia a momentary look of pity before saying, "I trust that you can take care of her from here, I expect you in ten minutes." and with that the Blonde has descended the stairs, leaving the pair of them in the quiet comfort of routine.

It takes around five minutes for Thalia to gather all of the covers and put them back on the bed, and another three for Reyna to locate her trousers. By the time they've descended the stairs for breakfast it's been nearly twenty minutes, and Reyna's hair is still undone, leaving the inky locks to smack Thalia in the face freely when the wind blows.

"Jesus," Reyna mumbles and pulls her coat tighter over her shoulders because the sunlit morning had tricked them into thinking it was warm.

Smoke rises from the kitchen where Leo is leaning out of the window, chatting up anyone unlucky enough to be in a five-foot radius. Percy lays lounged on the dining table, Annabeth leaning back against him with her hair blowing in the wind much like Reyna's. Piper is chuckling to something Frank had said, resting her head on the blonde's collarbone and her feet in Nico's lap. All their breaths rise in the cold January air, mingling with the sea spray and dissipating before it can rise even above their heads.

"What do you have to say about our Lord and Savior," Thalia teases, earning a glare from the Captain, one that usually scares people half to death, but Thalia has long since gotten used to.

"That he can go suck a barnacle," she grumbles, and Thalia widens her eyes in mock offense.

"Why, Reyna!" she gasps overdramatically and Reyna kisses her to shut her up.

"No PDA! It is too early for that," Nico grumbles from his position as Piper's footrest. If there was one thing he and Reyna shared in common it was chronic hatred of mornings. His hair stuck up much like Will's, and the bags under his eyes had significantly darkened, making him look like he had two black eyes. Thalia just snorts at him, taking the opportunity to wrap herself up in Reyna's arms and grin at him.

"Hey, you're just as bad with Will," Thalia teases, and Reyna simply rolls her eyes, but she looks satisfied that Thalia is leaning back into her.

"She's got a point there," Piper laughs from her spot, almost in Annabeth's lap at this point, but she doesn't seem to mind. Thalia admires how much she's mellowed out since her days aboard the Navy ship. She's gone from uptight and strict, to practically breaking a rule every time she breathes a little too hard. Her gray eyes spark with some sort of aliveness that they'd never held in her Navy days.

"Alright, enough, I need coffee before we do anything this morning," Reyna mumbles, disentangling herself from Thalia, and ignoring her pout as she picks her way towards Leo, who is already offering her a mug of the black liquid.

"Right here, capitán," Leo grins devilishly and Thalia ponders if she'll have to make sure he didn't put any rum in the Coffee again. Given Reyna's zombieness, she doubts she would notice if there was.

"Alright, so, what's this storm William so kindly informed me about," Reyna's demeanor is cold, but there's a fire in her eyes that more than makes up for it. This is what Thalia's known for a good while now: when they're alone, in their bedroom or somewhere no one can see, Reyna is every inch the same pirate she was when they first met. But out here, where everyone can see her she has to broadcast an image of strength, she becomes someone else. Someone entirely new and Thalia loves both. She loves the kind girl who would rather spend all day cuddling her in the privacy of the captain's quarters, but she also loves the leader who will look into the depths of the roaring sea and yell out a battle cry. Because Reyna is all that and more.

"About 20 knots north," Percy mumbles, not bothering to raise his head from the table. He's covering it with his arm which leads Thalia to believe he's suffering a hangover.

"Captain, just look that way if you want to see what we're talking about," Frank says and gestures in the direction the boat is heading. Curious, Thalia clambers portside to see and nearly falls over the railing.

Not to get her wrong, Thalia's seen her fair amount of storms in her time on the sea, but this is no ordinary storm. It's a towering abyss of ink charging towards them at top speed. Lightning flashes, crackling against the sea and flashing between clouds, hundreds of tendrils at once. They're still too far from it to feel the wind, but going by the way the sea curls and moves underneath the clouds it's enough to send her flying from the deck. Reyna hasn't moved from her spot beside the kitchen, but Thalia catches her eyes and knows that she can see how bad it is written on her face.

"What's the depth?" Reyna barks to Percy, who still hasn't risen from his spot on the table.

"Too deep for an anchor, Captain," He says without moving and Reyna frowns, knitting her eyebrows together. No one has moved, but suddenly the lazy summer feeling is like iron plated in gold. Cheap, and thin. It's easily scratched away, and now Thalia wants to yell at the whole crew to get off their asses and do something.

"Grace, Winds?" Reyna calls, and Thalia winces, and glances over the side of the deck again.

"Not Good. If we go in we'll tear off our mast," Thalia mutters and glances back at Reyna. She never calls her by her last name unless something's wrong. Reyna was scared of storms once upon a time, but she'd outgrown it. At least Thalia thought she had.

"Chase?" Reyna asks finally and Annabeth shakes her head.

"Nothing nearby. We're in the middle of the ocean." She says calmly as if she's perfectly fine with the sentiment that they'll all die soon.

"Well then, any last wishes men?" Reyna says breathily and stretches, popping several vertebrae in her back.

"That you'd stop calling us men?" Piper snipes, grinning evilly. Reyna simply rolls her eyes and stretches.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Jackson, Zhang, get the sails in check. Valdez, Chase, Mclean tie down everything valuable. Stolls, get everything that's too small to be tied down below deck. Levesque, Di Angelo, Solace-" most of the crew was already starting to scramble off to their own duties, some willingly like Piper and Annabeth, and others not so much. Percy literally being dragged by Frank towards the sails. However, everyone froze when someone yelled, sounding quite panicked, "CAPTAIN!"

Reyna frowns, looking up at the girl sliding down the railing towards her, looking thoroughly panicked.

"Lou, what is it?" she asks. Reyna is a good foot, at least, taller than the other girl.

"Ship, incoming," Lou Ellen huffs, and the rest of the crew looks to each other, confused. "Portside, and it doesn't look like a military ship. If it is, I've got no idea what country."

Annabeth is already scrambling up the Ratlines, Piper close behind. Reyna's face darkens visibly, growling slightly.

"Chase, report?!" she shouts, but Annabeth has gone pale.

"Captain..." she says and exchanges a panicked look with Reyna, Thalia can feel her stomach dropping to her toes. Annabeth never looked that panicked. Reyna, followed by Thalia, and then the rest of the crew, scrambled portside.

A towering ship made of light wood with a mast even taller than their own, but much like Lou had said, it was no military ship. It looks as if it had been made custom for those who rode it, and that's when Thalia felt her blood run cold. She recognizes that flag, and apparently, so does Nico. He growls, looking visibly pained, and draws the attention of Reyna.

"Di angelo, you have something you'd like to share?" she asks, not quite understanding whom they were spotting apparently.

"It's the Hunters," Thalia says, saving Nico from having to face a visibly ticked pirate captain.

"The who?" Piper asks from her perch and Thalia sighs heavily. "The Hunters of Artemis. A pirate crew infamous for being all female and throwing any male they come across to the sharks."

"It's said all women who get thrown off of ships by men who believe them unlucky join them," Reyna adds, frowning, "and that they are lead by something of a goddess. Little is known about Artemis herself, only that she's been around much too long to be human."

Thalia nods with solidarity, familiar with the legends of the immortal crew of pirates. "When I was younger they attacked one of the ships I'd been assigned to. The only survivors were a stewardess and me."

"Well shit," Percy mutters, gripping the side of the deck. "They just came out of the storm and their ships hardly scratched."

"Forget the preparations, we don't have the time. Get ready for your battle stations," Reyna orders, unsheathing her sword. "Last I heard the Hunters weren't a very diplomatic bunch."

~

And that's how Thalia's ended up in this situation she's decided to dub, the frying pan. For you see, there's an old tall tale that has something to do with a fire, and there's a freaking hurricane that's getting closer by the minute. The knife digging into her side could be considered a first world problem at this point.

The Hunters, as it turns out, are a fast and loud bunch who are pretty much an entire crew of Reynas. As much as Thalia loves Reyna, she still comes second best in combat to the other girl and it really isn't helping her situation.

It's utter chaos, rushing around her and screaming in the wind like a banshee. The hunter girl currently pinning her to the wall isn't much help to the chaos considering she can't breathe thanks to the knife pressing into her throat. One of the Stolls goes screaming past, at least three girls who don't look any older than thirteen on his back. Annabeth tumbles overhead, tangoing with two of the buggers, while Piper is just beneath her, standing back to back with Percy. Her dagger gleams in the dying sunlight as the storm begins to darken the sky above. Percy is already bleeding from both his temple and his shoulder, clutching onto his sword which is covered in the stuff up to the hilt.

Leo and Frank are on the stern, Leo on Frank's shoulders and swinging a mallet twice his size while Frank lets a rain of arrows loose to the crowds below. The other Stoll is dancing in between helping them and keeping the hunters away from the steering wheel. Will and Nico have disappeared from sight along with Hazel, and Lou is tangled in a heap of hunters that are much older than her.

Then, of course, there's Reyna. Reyna who's in the center of it all calmly dueling with the Hunter who seems to be commanding the whole attack, but certainly isn't the captain given she's missing the signature coat that seemingly all Captains bear. Reyna somehow makes bloodied and battered look good, stained in the stuff.

Wind howls, lightning flashes, thunder cracking across the sky and Thalia's losing the ability to breathe. Her Hunter counterpart is hardly budging as she struggles to push her off, clawing with desperate hands.

"Grace, watch out!" a voice yells, but it's too far away for Thalia to discern who it's coming from. There's a crash and suddenly she's on the deck, tasting sea salt and coughing, but oxygen is at least available again.

"Jesus," she heaves, coughing up something that's not saliva, and gasps unceremoniously, "Christ."

"My, my, my Grace, I expected better from you," a voice chuckles, and Thalia doesn't even have the energy to flip him off.

"Fuck off, Nico." She growls instead and he laughs. The clashing of metal is still ringing all around her as Nico helps her up. He's sporting a new layer of bandages around his scalp and Thalia has a sneaking suspicion where he got it from.

"What's even happening right now?" she asks because she's been wrestling for far too long to keep tabs on how the fight's been going in a broad sense.

"Well, still no sight of their captain, but they haven't stolen anything either, which is odd. I think they're after something specific they think we have," Nico comments and hands her the hilt of a sword she isn't familiar with. She's still grateful, at this point she'll take any weapon she can find.

"They don't seem too concerned with the fact that we're going to be capsized soon," Thalia remarks at the waves which have begun crashing over the sides of the deck with a vengeance, like inky black tongues licking at them.

"We might want to get down there," Nico mutters, watching as Reyna stabs into the girl facing her and there's an outcry from the surrounding hunters, which begin to close in around their fallen comrade, surging towards Reyna with something like the enclosing waves.

"Good call," Thalia says and charges down the steps towards the Captain who currently wrestles at least three different hunters per arm. Dual daggers gleam in the flashing light. Rain thunders down on the deck and swallows them all in its embrace. By the time Thalia makes it to clash with more of the Hunters she's soaked in more water than blood. The screams get louder, ringing in her ears and all she can hear is chaos. Utter and complete chaos. Thunder, lightning, rain, crashing waves, screaming Hunters, metal scraping along metal, metal on skin, metal on wood, crying, yelling, screaming, she's lost in the sound. Lost in the torrent of unending sound that's just closing in around her.

"STOP!" It's a voice like thunder. A voice that commands. The Hunters freeze, and as such comes with an opponent stopping in the middle of a death strike, Reyna's crew does as well. They're mesmerized by the person who has given the command.

It's a _girl_ , who can't be any older than thirteen, standing on top of her ship's stern, glaring with eyes that must've trapped the moon in their irises. Lightning flashes, illuminating her silhouette which has no right being as terrifying as it is with how young she is: knobby-kneed, with baby fat still in her cheeks and stomach. _The girl_ jumps, falling onto the deck of the ship without so much as a sound. The storm continues to rage on but feels somewhat subdued by _the girl's_ presence. As if she herself is the eye of the storm.

"We came here, for one reason, and what do you do when I fall asleep?" Her voice is thunder, crackling and roaring, but at the same time, it is one consolidated thing. It doesn't meander or go on for anything unmeaningful. It's one solid noise that doesn't match with the girl's childish face. The girl who Reyna had just struck down is being held up by two others, her eye is swollen shut, hidden under a mop of bright red hair that even in the storm darkened light is ungodly vibrant.

"M'lady, we know that-" she starts, but the girl doesn't let her finish. She turns with the expression of such pure rage that Thalia herself backs away and she's not even under it.

"You. Know. Nothing." She says, and the ginger visibly deflates, cowering away from the girl.

"Now, kindly, I assume you're the Captain of this wreck," the girl grumbles, turning towards Reyna who looks just as unsettled to this surprisingly unguarded captain as Thalia. She swallows that, however, and instead straightens herself back into her reserved, confident self.

"And you must be Artemis," Reyna says to the girl, who nods solemnly.

"I'm afraid I must apologize for my crew, I assure you this was without my command," Artemis snaps another glare in the ginger's direction.

"Unfortunately, given the current state of things, I don't believe we can solve this all so easily," Reyna remarks evenly, and Artemis again nods. For some reason, she didn't seem too upset about the whole ordeal.

"True, but my quarrel isn't with you, or your crew. It's with a certain, Miss Thalia Grace." There's a visible stiffening in Reyna's stance. Her knuckles going white on her sword as if that alone would stop bad memories from surfacing. Thalia fought the urge to step up to Reyna's side and potentially give herself away.

"If you want her you'll have to take her by force," Reyna snarls and Artemis frowns, there's something terribly cold and primordial about her. Like something that shouldn't exist, but at the same time, the world would die if she didn't.

"I wasn't asking," Artemis said simply, and her voice again is thunder. Booming, thundering, roaring, growling in Thalia's ear like a spell. It hurts, it really hurts for some reason, but no one else seems to realize that. To see that. No one else winces at the sound of a thirteen-year-old's voice. How the hell that even makes sense, for the 'immortal' captain of the Hunters to be a thirteen year old is something Thalia can't fathom.

Artemis whips her head in Thalia's direction, and Thalia can feel her blood freeze under that expression. Artemis frowns, then her expression morphs completely. An evil smile that could shatter the sky with how sharp it is.

"Thalia Grace, good. Well, we might as well make this short, for your sake and mine," with that the fight swings back into chaos, but for some reason, Thalia feels rooted to the spot. Her feet won't move, her arms are frozen, everything has turned to stone and all she can see is Artemis's eyes. All she can see is the moon in the middle of a storm.


	2. Blood In Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyna wakes up alone on an Island.

Sand.

All Reyna can make out is sand. It's in her mouth, sticking to her skin, and she's got it in her eyes, scratching at the corneas. Coughing she starts to sit up, but as soon as her head leaves the sand nausea hits her like a wave of bricks. She falls sideways, and wretches, clutching handfuls of sand with the motion. Her arms tremble, almost giving out, but Reyna manages to roll back onto her spine. Her back protests, along with her side, from the motion.

It's dark out, all Reyna can see is the stars, and she begins to wonder what the hell happened. Her brain doesn't supply her with any answers for that, unfortunately, and that isn't acceptable. Reyna wants to scream because it's just so ungodly unfair. She's been through enough shit in her life to warrant at least a year of peace. She's barely gotten three months of it, and now she's lying alone God knows where covered in sand and feeling like she was dropped into a meat grinder. That's when it hits her.

_Thalia._

Thalia's not here.

She sits up again, ignoring the horrible nausea this time, instead whipping her head back and forth frantically searching for any sign of her crew, but more importantly, for the black haired girl. She comes up empty with nothing in sight except the crashing ocean at her feet and boulders which appear to be what she must've hit because there's blood smeared on them.

There's no sign of her ship. No sign of her crew. No sign of Thalia. Reyna's alone and _fuck_ it hurts. Her leg is a mess of torn flesh and bone, and it nearly makes Reyna throw up again just looking at it. Blood has stained the sand around her, but whatever was bleeding has stopped because she doesn't shed drops when she moves. With a heavy breath, Reyna starts to try and get up, using one of the boulders for balance.

Apparently, her body disagrees, as her legs give out and now she's probably got a concussion too because her head hurts like a bitch and the stone made a dull thunking noise when she hit it.

"Fuck..." she growls, Reyna's vision is starting to dance in and out of focus and she starts to wonder if this is going to be where she dies. Alone on a beach god knows where with no idea how she even got here. Is her crew on the island, or did they abandon her, leave her to die in the sands and elect someone else as their champion. Or are they as alone and in as much pain as her? Are they nursing their own wounds, wondering if their captain had abandoned them. Most importantly, where the hell is Thalia.

Reyna's almost certain that even if her crew did turn against her, Thalia wouldn't abandon her. Thalia would be the last person to leave her behind, and the first calling for a search party to find her, so the fact that she's missing has her more concerned than the fact that her brain aches. Swallowing the iron taste, Reyna tries again to get up, but her arms will barely bear her weight now, shaking with the strain of her own upper body.

Reyna stifles a scream of frustration and starts to army crawl away from the ocean. Maybe, she thinks, if she can get out of the shadow of these boulders she'll be able to see more of the beach and get an idea what's going on. Her arms don't stop shaking with the movement, and she has to try not to scream every time she jostles her leg, the flesh is dragging across the sand with her and it's getting stuck in the openings in her skin. It fucking hurts and it's getting worse with every movement, but Reyna's determined to figure out what's going on. It's just one hand over the other.

Right hand. _Scrape_. Left hand. _Scrape_. Right hand. _Scrape_. Left hand. _Scrape_.

Rinse and repeat, over and over until Reyna can feel her heart beating in her brain, choking on the sand in her lungs and her leg is aching with enough pressure to explode.

"Nnaaaugh," she growls, biting her lip to try and quell the sound, but she only ends up tasting more blood. "Fuck."

The boulders still loom in the night, shadowing her face, but now she can make out some sort of light coming from the other side. She's not close enough to the end to see the source of it yet. Her arms feel like lead.

Reyna thinks, where there's light there are people, and she's too tired to question whether or not these people will kill her. That's unlike her, to ignore rational thought, but she assumes that Thalia was bound to rub off on her sooner or later.

"Hey!" she's trying to shout, but her voice sounds like she's been swallowing gravel and barely makes it above a whisper. The sea crashes at her feet, and she's frustrated. Her vision is fading to black again and she refuses to die here. She refuses to die with no idea how she dies. If those people are enemies at least she knows that she'll be dying by the hands of another.

Reyna flops over on the sand, rolling onto her back and wincing when her leg moves. One hand winds back, and the other presses into the sand. She knows how to make herself be heard, she only wishes it didn't hurt so much. She slams her hand into her leg, grinding into the marred flesh and the pain is blinding, but the resounding scream is just as horrible. It's a horrible splitting noise that hurts her ears just as much as the fist hurt her leg.

There's shouting suddenly, and Reyna's able to register arms lifting her up, but that's about it before the stars come crashing down on her head to welcome her into the night.

~

"Reyna!" Thalia's voice, screaming in her ear, and she whips around, but she can't see her through the sea of hunters charging towards her, dancing metal in the light of the storm. She ducks, pressing through the bodies and after the voice.

The battle truly had gone to shit after Artemis showed up. Dressed up in a captain's coat she certainly was in charge, but the supposed immortal captain of a band of admittedly very good fighters to be a thirteen-year-old child was almost insulting. At least it would be if she wasn't so damn good.

Artemis weaved through the chaos like a jaguar through the jungle, dodging rogue blades and punches with the grace of a ballerina. Her hair whipped around her face wildly and Reyna gave chase like a cheetah on the hunt. Artemis, however, proved to be just as good at fighting as she was at dodging. Reyna swung down one of her daggers at Artemis's back. The other Captain caught the blow on what appeared to be a hunting knife and shoved upwards with more strength that Reyna had expected. She went stumbling backward, the Captain now had full attention on her.

"Careful, child," Artemis said, showing off her twin hunting blades. "You and I both know what happens to our kind when we die. You don't want to go there yet young one, you've got a long life ahead of you." Reyna could feel blood rushing into her ears. Damn Thalia and her impressionable hot-headedness.

She sprang upwards, cuffing Artemis with a fist instead of a blade, managing a good few hits before the younger girl got back to her senses. She kicked Reyna in the stomach, ramming her shoulder into hers next. Reyna went sprawling. Artemis was lightning moving too fast to even be seen. Her shoe was on Reyna's chest before she could even breathe and now she was looking up into those cold eyes.

" _I'm_ the child?! What the hell are you, thirteen?!" Reyna's voice felt too small, too insignificant in the presence of this... this creature. Reyna refused to believe the person above her was human after that display of strength and speed. That was just impossible.

Artemis's expression flashed dangerously, almost as deadly as her knives. "Hades said you were smart, you should be able to figure it out." Reyna felt her chest compress and blood boil at the name.

"Hades can go shove a sword up his ass," she snarled savagely, lashing outward and trying to stand again. Her hands scrambled for a weapon, but Artemis slammed her back onto the deck with that foot, grinding her boot into Reyna's ribs.

"At least you understand that much," Artemis murmured, she looked at Reyna with some sort of interest now, like she'd discovered a new species of dog. Reyna glared at her with what she hoped was enough heat to melt her face off. Artemis seemed unaffected. "You remind me of someone..." she muttered, and for a split second, she looked sad. The same sadness that Reyna had seen on her own face three months ago.

"Perhaps you've met my late sister," Reyna growled out, trying to get up again, pushing against the foot firmly planted on her chest but Artemis was stronger than her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Artemis didn't answer her, just giving her the same sad look. The look of someone who's mourning. Reyna starts to slow down, those eyes aren't human, just like the rest of Artemis. The same otherworldliness is in them.

"Reyna!" Thalia's voice again and the spell breaks, both Artemis and her turn towards the sound, and in Artemis's temporary distraction Reyna bursts upwards, shoving the goddess backwards and in the same instant Reyna grabs her daggers. Artemis looks shaken, but the sad expression has left, replaced with the same cool confidence the woman had displayed earlier. Reyna paces around her, waiting for the attack, she can't win this battle on offense alone, that she can see.

Artemis has the same calculating expression that Annabeth wears way too often. She's looking at Reyna like a blueprint, not a human being and she doesn't like it one bit. Reyna's got a good foot on the other Captain, but her own personal experience has taught her not to underestimate anyone because of their height.

She strikes like a viper, whipping out so fast Reyna almost doesn't catch the blow. Fortunately, she does and the blades clang in the familiar clash. Reyna relaxes, this is her element. Combat. Plain and simple. Artemis slashes again, stepping forward with the motion. Reyna jumps over it, catching a piece of rigging above head and swinging over Artemis's head, kicking down at the same time to hopefully catch the side of her head.

Artemis, however, predicted her movement. She slashes upwards as Reyna kicks down and now there's a seven-inch hunting knife buried in Reyna's shin. She yells, the shout managing to get the attention of some of her crew mates, which doesn't help when they're all in the middle of their own assaults. Leo goes flying, slamming into the deck at the same time that Frank reaches up to block someone's arrow.

At least now she can see what Thalia had been yelling about, which isn't a good thing. Thalia's got two daggers buried in one shoulder and is bleeding heavily from her temple. Her throat is swollen, and her pale skin is covered in red. The flashing light doesn't help the image, she's a ghost in the storm. All shattered bones and red blood, white features and black hair. A lost spirit in the middle of chaos.

Three hunters are all advancing on her at the same time, but despite her state Thalia still holds her ground, flinging two backwards and stabbing the third through the calf. She yells, clawing at Thalia's face, but the pirate is ready. She bites the Hunter's hand, sinking teeth into flesh until red spurts from her mouth.

Artemis grabs Reyna by the leg and yanks her down from the rigging, and Reyna yells because the hunter's knife just digs in further and she's tasting the deck. Artemis growls, an inhuman sound that rumbles deep in her chest like an animal's. Reyna kicks upwards, digging her heels into something of Artemis's and shoving with all her strength. The other captain roars in pain and stumbles back, allowing Reyna to pull out the hunter's knife and regain her footing. The blood running down her leg is a minor inconvenience at best.

Artemis spits out a clod of what Reyna hopes is blood and charges towards Reyna with as much strength as a bull. Reyna jumps to the right, but Artemis moves with as much speed as she has before and Reyna experiences the full tackle. She goes onto her back again but makes sure to bring Artemis with her, jamming her knee into the other girl's abdomen. Artemis presses her dagger to Reyna's throat and Reyna wraps both her hands around hers, trying to push it away. Artemis pushes down with equal strength, the same expression of strain, so Reyna at least knows that the woman does have a limit.

"Foolish child, do you want to die," Artemis growls through gritted teeth and Reyna lurches upwards to try and move the wicked sharp knife from her jugular. Instead, the blade bites her collarbone.

"I want you to get off my boat!" Reyna shouts, and Artemis glares at her, eyes still as cold and sharp as always, but now they're cold in a burning way. One that makes Reyna wince beneath the other captain.

"I can't do that, I need your Grace, for a certain exchange. I'm not leaving this boat without her, so if you'd calmly hand her over, I'll leave," Artemis hisses, turning her dagger and grinding it into the bone at Reyna's collar. Reyna yells in pain, shoving her heel into Artemis's hip in a weak attempt at retribution.

"You can go fuck yourself, Thalia's not going anywhere." Reyna squeezes Artemis' wrist and with a lurching motion, rolls them over so she's on top now. She jams her arms downwards, pushing the dagger into Artemis's face and preferably into her nose, but the other Captain strains beneath her. Artemis's face grows darker, a certain hint of something someone might call desperation covering her moonlit eyes.

With a shout that most certainly isn't human, she shoves Reyna off of her and her head makes a thunking noise against the deck, her vision washes black. Artemis springs upwards, taking the opportunity to wrap her hands around Reyna's throat. The hunting knife was lost somewhere in the motion.

"I can't afford to lose this one, child, and I apologize that your life is going to have to end with you so young," Artemis' voice is no longer thunder. Now it's the hissing sound of air escaping a furnace, hot and grinding into Reyna's ears as she writhes beneath the younger captain.

There's shouting that she can't understand as her throat burns with the need for oxygen. Artemis's eyes are the moon and the stars above and she's just fading out. There's no air and she can barely move. All she can see is those eyes. All she can hear is the call of the void, coming to collect its prize. This is where she dies. Reyna honestly doesn't know if she should be flattered or insulted that she's being murdered by a magic thirteen-year-old.

There's a terrible crashing noise like thunder on shattered glass and oxygen is back in Reyna's lungs. She rolls over, retching and coughing and all around wishing that her lungs didn't burn so much, but she can hear the clash of metal just behind her. Reyna takes around thirty seconds to regain her sight, and ten more to be able to flip herself around, but she's glad she did because holy shit!

Thalia's locked in combat with Artemis, fairing much better than Reyna had, despite the fact she'd proven countless times that she was the better fighter among the two of them. Artemis lurches left in a movement that Reyna would never be able to catch, and Thalia sinks her sword into Artemis's arm when she does. She howls, stumbling leftwards and Thalia gives her a swift kick to the shin, sending her stumbling further away. Finally, once Artemis has disappeared into the throng of fighting bodies, Thalia turns to look back at her.

"Whatever the hell she's been drinking, I want some," Thalia says, and she's bleeding from the temple to the point where the entire left side of her face is caked in blood, but her smile could make the world stop turning. Reyna wants to punch her, but unfortunately, someone beats her to it.

Artemis comes from nowhere, literally materializing out of the shadows and hitting Thalia so hard she swears she can hear bone crack. Then Thalia's on the deck and Reyna's staring in stunned silence, she hasn't moved a centimeter for the past minute.

Artemis is different, older like she'd aged in the span of seconds. From thirteen to seventeen and there's no way in hell the woman is human. Reyna knows that for certain now. She's a demon of some kind, with a band of thralls she leads to do her bidding. With a gulp of air that tastes like blood, Reyna throws herself in front of Thalia, brandishing a knife that's so small in the perspective of what she needs.

"If you want her you'll have to kill me," Reyna growls and surprises herself with how feral it sounds. Artemis simply gives her another once over, that same calculating look on a much older person.

"I should've seen it before," she says, and her voice is the whisper of the wind in the dead of night. Her hands are claws, reaching out and touching Reyna's face, never going deeper than skin but at the same time scraping bone.

"It seems," Artemis says, and looks much too sad for a woman who almost killed Reyna moments ago, "we must both lose the ones we hold dear. Young one."

~

Reyna's falling.

Falling, tumbling, roaring through the sky at terminal velocity as the earth approaches unwaveringly. There's no mercy, no chance for survival. Just the roaring wind and the smell of earth as she gets closer and closer and closer.

Wind

Sky

Blue

Black

Earth

Blood.

~

Reyna shoots bolt upright, and straight into a coughing retching fit. At this point, she's getting sick of the motion. The world is a kaleidoscope, color, and bits of objects that don't make sense because they aren't fitted together properly. There's Will's face, Nico's shoe, a dagger, and a piece of banana horribly collided together in her vision which is struggling to focus along with her breath.

"Woah, lay back down," Will's voice, but all Reyna can see doesn't make logical sense.

"Will-wha where-?" she starts, but she can feel him pushing her back down and she has to cough again. Her lungs feel like over inflated balloons.

"Shhh... shut up before I have to put you back to sleep," Will growls in her ear and Reyna's dimly aware that there's someone holding her down.

"Will, what the fuck is-" Reyna suddenly lurches upwards because something tightens around where the bloody remains of her leg are. "Shit!"

"I said, shut up!" Will shouts, directing some more people to hold her down. Her vision is starting to clear, which is on the plus side because now she can see exactly who she's going to be punching later. Connor Stoll has her by the shoulders, leaning with most of his weight to keep her from sitting up again. His brother Travis is standing beside him, hands over some sort of leather bind he's tightening around her leg. Reyna goes pale.

"William _Fucking_ Solace, this better not be what I think it is!" She shouts, trying even harder to get up now, but Nico has her good leg held down.

"Captain, there's nothing to salvage. At this point you'd be walking on your ankle, you want that? Because it'll hurt." Will growls back, and he's covered in blood. His shirt and hands so covered in the stuff that she fears it'll never wash out. His hair is a mess, sweat slicking it back from his face and leaking into blue eyes that are red from crying. Reyna doesn't care because she is not going to do this.

"I swear to God Solace, when I get out of here, you are dead!" she shouts, straining so hard she can feel stitches popping but she doesn't care. Conner and Travis strain to keep her back on the cot.

"Should we give her rum or-" Connor starts, but Will shakes his head wildly.

"Alcohol thins the blood, she'll bleed out if we do. It'll hurt like a bitch, but it's better this way," he says and finishes sealing the leg in. Reyna can barely feel it anymore but knows it's only temporary.

"Don't you fucking dare!" She shouts. Will just gives her a weary smile.

"You'll thank me later captain." Nico hands him a machete as long as his arm and Will raises it over his head. The blade is clean, fortunately.

"William-" Reyna yells one final warning, and the sword comes down on her leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to Maddie for betaing this stuff, hope Y'all enjoy- M


	3. The Girl In Stone

Thalia can’t see. Truly, that shouldn’t be her first problem given she’s aboard a fucking Hunter ship, but it’s frustrating nonetheless. She can barely feel her arms, they ache so much. Actually, she takes it back, _everything_ hurts. Her entire body feels like the distinct sensation of being deep fried alive. Her head especially, which is so hot Thalia swears that her eyes are emitting steam. Not that she can negate that fact given she still can’t see. Part of her wonders if the Hunters are cannibals.

Cannibals, of all places why does her brain always automatically go there. She’s never truly met a cannibal, for all she knows Cannibals could be perfectly reasonable people with a certain lifestyle, like vegans. However, Thalia has not met any cannibals, so she wouldn’t know that.

“Alright, confirmed fever…” she hears a voice mutter and takes a full ten seconds to register that it’s her own voice and not someone she doesn’t recognize. “Jesus, my brain is fucked.” Her mind is a palace, swirling unceremoniously in and out of tangible thought. It’s like it’s disconnected from her body somehow, which continues throbbing unhelpfully.

With an inconvenient amount of effort, Thalia manages to get a hand to her face and feel for what’s blocking her vision. The blindfold is rough against her fingers, like reptile skin. She swallows her own gag and instead dumps the blindfold onto the floor so she can make out her surroundings.

It’s… well, it’s a captain’s quarters, which alone is confusing since she’s supposed to be a prisoner. Worse, thalia’s in the captain’s bed, which doesn’t boost her morale as she attempts to lift herself up. Her arms shake, they look weak and pale in the lantern light, covered in bandages and a shirt that’s not her own. Thalia lays back down because the floor is moving beneath her and she’s not, which isn’t a good sign.

“Fuck…” her voice is a rasp, barely recognizable to her own ears. She hates it, hates how it sounds like she’s a child again, lying on Luke’s couch because she couldn’t do anything else. She had no money, no food, no protection besides the older boy who only bothered to drop his raincoat over her shoulders before he trudged out into the cobblestone streets.

Thalia sighs heavily, it’s been too long to even think about that, it’s been nearly nine years, she doesn’t need shit like that in her brain anymore. She guesses it really drives home the fact that she’s got a concussion. The ceiling is changing colors, which definitely isn’t supposed to happen, and there’s a throbbing pain shooting down her spine with every breath she takes. It’s pathetic really.

The movement of the door eventually brings her out of the fevered haze. The person who enters just makes things worse because it’s the fucking Captain. Artemis, but just like she’d somehow done on the ship she’s older now. She looks like a young woman, twenty-two at the very least, with her hair braided much the same way that Reyna usually does hers, but the auburn locks have a circlet of silver resting atop the braids instead of a hat. She looks exhausted as if she hasn’t rested since the attack and that alone is cause for unease in Thalia’s bones. How long has she been here?

“I see you’re awake,” She murmurs, setting herself down next to Thalia on the bed. Thalia winces when the mattress moves and her body shifts to compensate. Her bones feel like broken glass, stabbing into her muscle from the inside.

“What the hell am I doing here?” Thalia means for it to sound more demanding, but her rasping voice won't even make it to a whisper. Artemis cocks her head, a motion that is incredibly doglike.

“Healing, obviously, I may need you for a trade, but we aren’t barbarians. I’m not about to let you bleed out in the brig,” she mutters and stands to walk to the nightstand. Thalia winces again when the mattress moves.

“But why the heck would you need me to trade for anything?” thalia hisses, her breath is hot and smells vaguely of rum. Artemis bends over a set of drawers and draws out a sponge. She then turns and walks to the Nightstand, taking a bucket from it Thalia had not previously noticed.

“Simple,” Artemis says and she looks down at Thalia, “Hades has something of mine, and he asked for you in return. I don’t plan on losing anything, so I will do what I must.” Thalia’s not sure if she should feel relieved that she understands the situation, or terrified because _she understands the situation_.

“Shit…” Thalia just mutters and Artemis pauses, that curious expression has crossed her face again.

“You know the man?” She asks. Thalia musters a nod, but the motion is sickening. Artemis returns to the bed and sets the bucket down beside it. It’s full of water, and Artemis soaks her sponge before placing it on Thalia’s forehead.

“I’ve never met him face to face, but I’ve heard enough.” Thalia watches Artemis frown, her cold demeanor frosting over whatever kindness Thalia might’ve been able to see earlier.

“Do you know what he would want with you?” Artemis asks, and her voice is steel. Thalia averts her gaze to try and escape the hot one Artemis is giving her.

“Honestly, not really. I mean, I can guess, but it’s a long shot anyway so it doesn’t matter.” Artemis’s face darkens further and Thalia is frozen in the hot seat.

“And what is your guess, young one?” Thalia winces. She hates that sound, she doesn’t know why Artemis’s voice hurts so much.

“He’s my uncle, he might try to use me as leverage against my Father, I don’t know!” Thalia growls back at the woman. She raises her head to try to look defiant, but only succeeds in making it harder to stay awake. Thalia’s vision goes crashing down almost as soon as she gets her head off the mattress.

“Lay back, child, you’ll only hurt yourself,” Artemis instructs and Thalia feels personally attacked. She surpassed the label ‘child’ a long time ago. Nonetheless, Thalia does surrender her head back to the mattress. More out of the fact she’ll pass out if she keeps it up much longer.

“Fuck. You.” Thalia hisses softly, her head feels like it’s been brought out of the deep fryer and into the pizza oven.

“You’re trying too hard,” Artemis whispers and Thalia winces again at her words. “Who is your father, and what would Hades want from him?” Thalia doesn’t have the strength to fight her.

“He’s the King of England, and that should be enough information.” Thalia doesn’t think she can keep talking. Her tongue feels swollen and her throat is dry. Artemis raises her brows.

“Is he? What is a princess doing on the seas, as a pirate might I add?” Artemis’s gaze is too curious. Thalia doesn’t like it.

“I’m not a princess,” her rasping voice is barely audible, and Thalia is getting frustrated. How the hell is she going to survive this shit if she can’t even speak properly.

“Clearly,” Artemis mutters and gives her another once over. Thalia feels like a pig tied up being inspected by a butcher. Looking for the best place to start the cut. Artemis lets out a forlorn sigh. “Rest, young one. Before you hurt yourself further.” Thalia wants to protest, but drowsiness climbs up her spine and slowly takes her away. Leaving her at the mercy of sleep.

~

The cavern is huge, the size of a small mansion at least. There’s easily ten feet above Thalia’s head and the cavern is wide enough for a rugby team to play comfortably. Though she’s never been here before, some sort of sixth sense in her neck is screaming ‘danger! Danger!’

Looking around, Thalia begins to see that the cavern isn’t as deserted as first thought, in the corner of the room there is a heap of dark hair and ropes. A woman bound tight enough to strangle a boa constrictor. Blood caked the ropes closest to the woman’s throat and ankles. But the scariest thing was the girl’s eyes. Her entire body was covered, indecipherable, but a pair of eyes dark enough to swallow the entire universe stared from just above the woman’s gag. She was staring directly at Thalia, staring straight into her soul.

Thalia’s entire being shivered and she stepped back, but there was no ground and she found herself tumbling through blackness. Surrounded by the sound of faintly running water, like a stream several caverns deeper. The longer she fell the louder it got until the roar of a waterfall was deafening. Then, she could feel it, water all around her like the world’s biggest, most dangerous water slide. Jagged rock and rushing water, the faint stench of the sea was washed away by the fragrance of earth and water as fresh as a mountain stream. Thalia still couldn’t see but the rushing water swallowed her whole.

~

“Chin up,” someone’s voice, Thalia couldn’t distinguish who. Vaguely, she was aware of someone’s hand tilting her chin back, but the rest of her just throbbed with pain. Nothing else was worthy of note than the piercing pain shooting down her spine with every single heartbeat.

She could taste something sickeningly sweet, but the pain soon consumed her mouth too, making it impossible to swallow.

“Come on, almost there,” the voice murmured again, gentle in a way that didn’t quite fit it. A voice built for command, and it was trying to get her to swallow a mouthful of what Thalia could only hope was medicine. She choked it down, but her throat was on fire.

“Good, now just rest,” the voice whispered and Thalia just melted back into the black. Unable to argue or even attempt to move.

~

The water slide came to an abrupt end, dumping Thalia in a lagoon much too deep for any hope of finding solid ground. After a minute of futile floundering about Thalia was able to discern the beginnings of what she hoped was light towards her left. So, she swam towards it. Admittedly, she was far from Percy’s flawless breath strokes, or Reyna’s efficient forward stroke. However, doggy paddle worked, so she just continued. Finally, the source of light came into view and Thalia clambered over a rock to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

It was a woman, or rather, a girl. A girl who couldn’t have been any older than twelve sculpted perfectly out of stone. Perfect, like an angel. Cloaked in moonlight and carved out of white marble that, despite the amount of water around, looked remarkably untouched. The girl was small, couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, with long hair that reached her hips. Her cheeks were still chubby from baby fat and speckled with freckles much like the ones that adorned Thalia’s own skin.

Her eyes were closed, though given that she was a statue Thalia wouldn't have been able to discern the color from them anyway. Something about the girl was hauntingly familiar, like a dream within a childhood memory. She’d seen her, somewhere Thalia was sure, but there was still a pit of vague emptiness that stood where the girl’s name should have been.

Thalia stepped closer and nothing changed, but as she got closer the detail became more and more remarkable. Strands of marble curling away from the girl’s hair and lines etched into her lips like they’d been chapped. The girl’s hands curled around a medallion at her chest, like it would protect her from something, and the fingers and knuckles looked as if they could move at any second. The more Thalia looked, the uneasier she felt. The statue was perfect, almost living, Thalia believed if she stared long enough the girl would breathe, and open her eyes. _Like waking from a dream?_

Why did that thought erk her? There was something wrong with the girl. Something otherworldly about her. The closer Thalia drew, the heavier she felt. The statue was so real, she could hear the girl’s voice, but couldn’t discern the words. She could see the girl’s eyes open, but couldn’t take in the color. Thalia could feel the girl’s name on her tongue, but couldn’t speak it.

The statue remained still. Impassive. It was just that, a statue. But something was alive in there. Someone was trapped. A girl trapped in eternal slumber, a marble tomb for a sleeping child.

~~~

Nico had long ago decided that he preferred sunrise to sunset. Truly he didn’t know why, but something about the idea of light coming to the earth rather than slowly leaving it was comforting. Today was no exception, it had been one terribly long night. From getting shipwrecked after getting their asses kicked by a gang of magical twelve-year-olds, to dealing with the many injured crewmates, amputating the captain who threatened to cut his balls off, and then dealing with an emotionally wrecked Will Solace, Nico is tired. But he still can’t sleep.

Nico huffs and watches as the rising sun stretches to illuminate the top of the rock he’s sitting against. When he started dating Will, he didn’t realize that meant he’d become doctor’s assistant in pretty much everything from sewing a cut up to chopping off someone’s leg. However, Will looked good in red and he wouldn’t trade the spunky medic for the world. No matter how many mental breakdowns he’d have to deal with in one night.

From his perch at the top of the beach, he can watch as the few mostly unharmed crewmembers stalk around below. Some are comforting their more injured friends, while others just pace, needing something to do with themselves so they won’t be swallowed by the heavy atmosphere

Piper and Annabeth are tending to Percy, who’s still bleeding from his shoulder despite how much pressure Will had applied. Piper’s head is still wrapped in several layers of gauze, and Annabeth is nursing her shoulder, which had only been popped back into place an hour ago. Frank, Leo, and Hazel were only a few feet away from them, all three of them comparing leg injuries. Leo’s by far the worst as he gestured wildly with both hands, detailing how he’d managed to get it caught in the rigging when they crashed.

However, the centerpiece of them all is Reyna, who lay on a cot underneath a makeshift covering. What was left of a sail had been used to make awnings for the more injured crewmembers to rest under. Lou sat under the nearest one, nursing a pint of rum and ignoring the giant hole in her stomach. Reyna’s cot, however, had the most people gathered around it. Out of all fifteen of them, only one had ended up needing to get an amputation. And of course, that person had been Reyna, the one person who walked away from pretty much everything unscathed. She’d been unconscious since they did the amputation, and Nico decides that probably was for the best. He has no doubt that she plans to follow through with every single one of her threats when she wakes up if she doesn’t calm down first.

“You alright?” a voice asks and Nico jumps, nearly punching the speaker before he realizes it’s only Will.

“Fine, but try not to sneak up on me next time,” Nico mutters and Will laughs, but taking it by the man’s under eye bags and sweat-plastered hair he doesn’t mean it. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“I could say the same about you,” Will fires back and, before Nico can protest, Will has draped himself over Nico’s lap. Nico just sighs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one who’s spent the better half of a day getting yourself covered in blood,” Nico grumbles but doesn’t stop himself from sliding his fingers through Will’s hair.

“You’re one to talk di angelo,” Will mutters back, but he’s closed his eyes in favor of savoring the sensation of Nico’s fingers rubbing his scalp.

Nico snorts and scratches a spot he knows that Will likes best. The medic hums in satisfaction and moves into his touch. Nico doesn’t even try to hide his smile, he sometimes wonders what kind of person he would be if he had never followed Thalia onto the boat that night. Would he have gone back to England and just become one sailor of many, or would he have eventually ended up in his father’s clutches? Would he have disappeared off to whatever place his father had put his sister after she’d left in search of him, only to never return. It was a scary thought, to think that one impulsive decision had been all he had between the life he had now, and a fate worse than death.

“You seem to be having fun,” a familiar voice chimes in, and Nico looks up to meet the eyes of his sister. Hazel, still nursing a sprained ankle she’d received when the boat had beached itself, stood leaning against the rock that Nico was currently resting his back against.

That of course, was another plus of that impulsive decision thirteen-year-old Nico had made, meeting a second sister he’d never even knew existed. Hazel would never replace Bianca, of course, but she did provide some comfort in knowing he still had some family left.

“Oh shut up, you and Frank are just as bad,” Nico grumbles, but Hazel sees straight through him, just as she always has. She sits down beside him and bumps his shoulder affectionately.

“At least we don’t make a racket at three A.M. when everyone else is asleep,” she jokes and while Will barks a laugh Nico simply gives her a glare.

“If you ever do I’m chopping his off,” Nico says decidedly and that gets her to laugh completely.

“Nico, I’m only two years younger than you,” she complains, still laughing. Nico rolls his eyes.

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that you two aren’t going any farther than kissing until marriage.”

“Do pirates even have marriage?” Hazel asks and Nico always has trouble remembering that he’s only known Hazel for about three months when she, Frank, Leo, and Annabeth had joined the crew after being taken hostage by them.

“They don’t,” William chuckled and poked Nico in the stomach, causing a resounding squeak and for him to be shoved into the sand.

“Shut up solace!” Nico complained while Hazel simply rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, my point is Nico, lighten up. She’s not a kid and she can decide what she wants to do and when to do it. Besides, if I remember correctly you were only-”

“I said, shut up Solace,” Nico growled, blushing furiously. Hazel rose her eyebrows, giving Nico a look.

“What was that William?” she asked and Will, who was currently being smothered by Nico’s legs barked a quiet, “Nothing!”

The sun slowly rose higher in the morning sky, staining the clouds gold and climbing its way down the rock face they sat against. Hazel looked brilliant in the sun, dark skin gleaming like polished bronze and golden eyes that reflected the sun’s rays. William didn’t look half bad himself. His golden curls caught the light in such a way that perfectly showed off the furrow on the right side he’d gotten during a sparring match with Frank. His freckles sparkled like dew in the sunlight and caramel skin perfectly balanced out the light eyes that lit up his face.

They were both beautiful, and Nico was lucky that he’d ended up with such a great sister and a handsome boyfriend. There was no other way to say it then Nico was grateful, in the deepest sense. Of course, he’d never tell Will or Hazel that, but he hoped they knew it.

~

Reyna was laying on cold packed earth. The kind of soil you only get to once you’ve gone at least twenty miles inland. Once you can no longer see the ocean. Blinking, Reyna sits up, only to notice that she knows exactly where she is. The looming gravestone cements that. Greystone that she and Hylla had lugged over from a rocky outcrop. Carved into it with all the grace of a twelve-year-old’s hand, Hylla had carved in the words ‘Bellona Ramirez Arellano.’

Reyna hadn’t been here since she was six years old. It’s been thirteen years and she’s never visited her own mother’s grave. That was depressing.

“Really, Reyna, you need to get off that boat more often,” a familiar voice chuckles and Reyna whips around, startled. Hylla lounges against a tree, long dark hair draping in black waves across her shoulders. She looks exactly as Reyna remembers her, same dark eyes brimming with secrets that would never be spilled, same sly smirk, same coat, same blood stained blade protruding from her chest.

“Hylla?” Reyna chokes out, and the older girl smiles. They’re nearly the same age now. Reyna had been only 15 when Hylla had died, now she was nineteen and Hylla was still in her twenty-two-year-old glory.

“Hey niñita, miss me?” Hylla asks and stands to meet her. The sword in her chest shimmers like the after image of a ghost. All of Hylla is shimmering like she’d somehow trapped the stars in her veins.

“What are you- where are we?” Reyna questions, looking around they can’t actually be at her mother’s grave, that’s all the way in Scotland and She wasn’t anywhere near Scotland last she checked. Hylla laughs, shoulders shaking in the motion, and that can’t feel good with a sword in her chest. There’s also that, her dead sister is standing in front of her, with a sword in her chest, and walking around like it’s nothing.

“We are in what some people call limbo,” Hylla says and Reyna blinks. Limbo?!

“So that means that I’m…” Reyna trailed off as Hylla shook her head.

“Not yet, niñita. But you’re close. It doesn’t hurt though, that you managed to smack yourself upside the head.” Hylla stretches and for a second the sword disappears, showing a gory image of what must be Hylla’s heart, spilling blood down Hylla’s chest.

“Then… wh-why are you here? You’re... You’re dead,” Reyna asks and HYlla smiles teasingly.

“I’m allowed to visit my sister am I not?” she questions and hugs Reyna. Reyna stiffens, expecting to get impaled by steel, but the blade simply goes straight through her, like she doesn’t even exist. “Besides,” Hylla sighs after releasing her death grip on her younger sister, “limbo doesn’t only house the ones close to death, it houses those who never got a verdict.”

“A verdict?” Reyna asks, remarking that she can wave her hand through the sword in Hylla’s chest and Hylla doesn’t even flinch.

“Yes, a verdict. Souls who weren’t good or evil enough to go anywhere,” Hylla mutters and shrugs. Reyna knits her eyebrows.

“So you’re telling me being a pirate isn’t enough condemnation to get you into hell?” she asks and Hylla laughs

“Pirate is the definition of not good or evil enough. We don’t outright seek to do evil, but we don’t outright seek to do good either. I never killed anyone important enough. Nor did I save anyone pure enough. Besides, you really think that there’s a hell or a heaven? There’s just a good place and a bad place, labels make it all too complicated.” Hylla shrugged and looked over at their mother’s grave.

“And you wanna know what Reyna? I never met Father or mother in all my time here. They’re somewhere else, where… I don’t know,” Hylla sighs.

“So… why here?” Reyna asks, uncomfortably looking at the tombstone. Hylla shrugs.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who came here, I just followed. Your soul decided that this was the first place to go,” she looks Reyna over, concern deeply etched on her face.

“What?” Reyna asks half of her doesn’t want to know.

“Nothing, just usually people who end up here show some sort of evidence of why they’re here,” Hylla gestures to the sword protruding from her chest, “but you don’t have a scratch on you.” Reyna looks down and notices that she’s right. She still has all of her limbs attached and her torso is lacking in any major holes.

“What happened Reyna, why are you here?” Hylla asks finally, and Reyna gets the impression that she knows something Reyna doesn’t.

“I just…” Reyna trails off when she realizes she doesn’t know. That she hasn’t known this entire time. She’s just been coasting off ignorance. “I… don’t remember.” She hears the words exit her mouth but has found that her mind is going far far away from it.

Hylla’s face darkens, the entire area does, shadows growing longer and more threatening in a gray sunset. “Only one other person I’ve met here has said that,” Hylla whispers.

“Who?” Reyna again hears herself ask, but everything feels off like a scene from a play played over and over and over again. Scripted words from tired tongues.

“A little girl named Bianca,” Hylla whispers and her hair whips around her despite the lack of wind. Reyna shivers.

“A-” Hylla cuts her off.

“She’s encased in stone,” Hylla says and the setting sun is dangerously close to the horizon, it’s almost pitch black. Not a single star shines.

“Hylla!” Reyna calls, but her sister is gone, replaced by the macabre remains of a corpse with a sword sticking out of it.

“Go.”


	4. Lost a friend

Jason is ready to smash his skull through a wall. For God's sake, he knew that his stepmother wasn't going to make it easy on him, but this is beyond even her levels of craftiness. He's been searching for  _months_ , seven fruitless months of sifting through thousands of reports, searching for one soldier in an entire fucking navy. And now that he's finally gotten a lead on her whereabouts, he finds that her ship was ransacked by pirates, and she had been taken prisoner. So as far as he knows she's dead at the bottom of an ocean somewhere.

"God freaking dammit." Jason drops his face in his hands, grinding his palms into his skull. He only found out he had a sister seven months ago, and to know she was already dead when he never even had a chance to meet her was too much.

"If your mother heard you say that I doubt she'd be happy," another voice interrupts Jason's brooding. He looks up to meet the gaze of a red headed teenager who looks much too happy for his good.

"Rachel, not now," he mutters, rubbing his fingers against his temples. Rachel rolls her eyes and walks over to sit on the table in front of him.

"Cheer up, Sparky, because I've got some good news for you." She's smiling like a child with a secret, and he doesn't like it one bit. Rachel had been his only friend since he was five years old, which was no surprise given she was also the only child of any noblemen in the castle that was around his age. Knowing her that long, he knew that 'good news' was rarely that.

"If you ripped the sail again I swear to God Rachel-" he begins, and Rachel cuts him off.

"Alright, we already established that was an accident, but this actually is good news," her hair hangs loosely around her neck today, which makes her look a bit like a child's doll the way it puffs around her head like a cloud. The sea spray has done little to help with that.

"Then spill," Jason says finally, resigned to whatever twisted fate Rachel has dumped him into this time.

"Okay, so y'know how your sister supposedly was taken prisoner by pirates?" she asks and Jason frowns.

"There's no supposed about it Rachel, all records say she was taken."

"Records, yes, crewmates, however, no," Rachel corrects and Jason blinks.

"What?" He asks, shifting so he is sitting upright again. Rachel grins at him, showing off teeth that are just the slightest bit crooked.

"There's this guy on this boat, his name is Michael, and evidently he was on several voyages with, one, Thalia Grace. According to him, she had a history with a specific Pirate crew that called themselves the Romans. Anyhow, long story short she wasn't kidnapped by pirates, she joined them."

Jason is dumbfounded. "What? Why on earth would she join them? They ransacked her ship!" He splutters, Rachel's grin widens.

"Apparently, she and the Captain of the crew had a history and dated," Rachel loved gossip, which Jason will admit he participated in far too often with far too much enthusiasm, however on this occasion, Jason is more than floored. The mere prospect that his sister is still alive is one thing, but her being a pirate is another. He tried to picture the young girl he'd seen paintings of as a swashbuckler and comes up empty. He guesses that twenty years does happen to change a person.

"So, this 'Roman' crew. What do we know about them?" He asks finally. Rachel shrugs.

"Not much, they aren't that renown, which is probably a good thing. That means they aren't particularly violent. However, we do know their captain is a girl named Reyna Ramirez-Arellano. Her family comes from a noble house of Spain."

"Her?" Jason questions. Rachel nods. "I thought you said that she dated the captain?" He questions again.

"She did," Rachel confirms and Jason knits his eyebrows, confused.

"That's... that's a thing?" he questions and Rachel actually laughs.

"Okay, I knew you were a sheltered child, but I thought you'd at least have an idea," She herself doesn't look phased and Jason is really confused.

"But... but... I thought that men could only be with women?" He feels a little like a small child being shown the ocean for the first time. Realizing that the world is so much bigger than just what resided within the castle walls. "Is there, like, a term for that?"

Rachel laughs, "Yeah, it's called homosexuality." Jason blinks.

"But... but that's illegal?" he questions and Rachel rolls her eyes.

"They're pirates Jason, I doubt they give a shit about English law," she mutters and Jason just rubs his head.

"Whatever, this is giving me a headache anyway. You said that she was a noblewoman from Spain?" He tried to straighten his brain out, he could question his father's leadership decisions later.

"I said she was from the house of one. Her father was a baron or some such, anyway, he ran away to become a Pirate, I doubt the woman knows anything of her bloodline," Rachel sighs and stands to stretch. "The crew was last spotted heading for the Americas in the far north."

"So set a course," Jason mutters, and Rachel nods.

"You sure you're ready to face a crew of potentially hostile pirates?" she asks and Jason looks up from where he's been hunched over reports for the past five hours. His neck and shoulders ache unhelpfully and he moves his head to pop his neck.

"What choice do we have? I'm finding my sister, I don't care how long it takes. My mo... step-mother, denied me fifteen years with her, I'm going to find my own." He's firm in that. He has no idea what part of him hadn't noticed that he didn't look like the rest of his family. His mother and father were both black haired and stood on the shorter side of stature. Hera had rounded features, and Zeus had grown a thick beard by the time he was fourteen. Jason was sixteen and had yet to produce even a wispy mustache. Rachel had been the one to find out he was the Bastard child of his father and a French actress named Beryl Grace. It had been Hera, after a lot of begging and denial who had admitted that he had an older sister.

"You're a good kid Jase, I Just hope you've thought about this whole thing," Rachel murmurs. Jason raises an eyebrow.

  
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks and Rachel sighs.

"You do realize that if you die on this voyage your cousin Heracles becomes King." Jason shivers. Heracles was only eleven and already he was a spoiled brat.

"Point taken," Jason mutters, "but I know what I've been raised to do Rachel. I'll be King one day, and I'm going to make sure that I'm prepared when I am. I'm only asking you to trust that I know what I'm doing." Rachel doesn't look happy, but nods stiffly, straightening herself out.

"I trust you, Jason, I'm just concerned about our future."

"I know, I am too."

"Jase," Rachel looks extremely concerned about something still, "If we do find this sister of yours, what do you think she'll be like?" Jason honestly doesn't have any idea.

"I don't know... maybe... she's like our mother?" he questions, thinking about what little information on Beryl Grace he'd managed to scratch up. She had been an amazing Opera singer evidently, had a bad Alcohol addiction and had died from it. Thalia had evidently spent much of her young childhood caring for the woman before she passed away, that had to leave some sort of residue on you, especially when you were a young child.

"For your sake, I hope she's not." Rachel decides and runs a hand through her hair.

~

Reyna sits bolt upright, blood roaring in her ears and the taste of something foul on her tongue. Will Solace stands directly above her holding a bottle of something that smells like liquified dog shit and she has to clamp both hands over her mouth to keep from vomiting. Will heaves a large sigh of relief and relaxes back against one of the support beams for the tent Reyna's in.

"Thank god, you were really damn close," He whispers, breathing hard, and it takes Reyna a full thirty seconds to figure out what he means. Close. Close to death. She remembers Hylla in her dream, was it possible that she had really gone to purgatory for a short amount of time. Had she actually managed to speak with her dead sister, or was she simply suffering from a head wound and possible infection?

"What happened?" she mutters, still a little murky on the details of why she's in a cot under- wait was that one of their sails? Will sighs, rubbing his face and clearly trying to compose himself. Reyna moves to get the covers off of herself so she can stand and is hit with a wave of nausea.

"It's... well... our ship wrecked," Will begins and Reyna attempts to dispel the nausea that's choking her. Everything has a strange green hue to it and she doesn't like that one bit. Will moves forwards to keep her from falling out of the cot. She grabs onto him to keep her balance.

"Yeah, I remember that..." she mutters, rubbing her face. "Where... where's Thalia..." she mutters, trying to figure out why she can't feel her right leg. Will goes pale.

"She... the Hunters took her," he says softly and a wave of anger burns through Reyna like a tidal wave. She has to physically restrain herself from immediately lashing out at Will.

"Fuck." She growls and adds several more words to the phrase. Will doesn't seem phased by that and he carefully lowers her back down onto the cot. But Reyna has too much energy now to waste it. As soon as he lets go, she springs back up. She's lost Thalia many times before, taken by Red coats and doctors and people who just wanted a reason to get the attention of the British monarchy, but it doesn't make the revelation hurt any less.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to put a leash on that girl," she growls and Will doesn't hide a smile.

"Well you're in a better mood than I thought you would be," he mutters and turns to grab what Reyna hopes is tea and not any more of that foul liquid he'd had earlier. Reyna wipes her face again and reaches down to feel her Right leg and figure out why the hell it's so numb. Except there's nothing there. Reyna pales.

"Will..." she whispers and the medic turns back around to look at her, noticing her staring at the foot of the cot where her leg should be but isn't. He swallows.

"Reyna," he begins, but her pallid face has begun to spread its color, her hands and arms have become stained with it. Her eyes are dilating, dark spheres growing wider as she begins breathing hard. Shock. "Reyna." He says again, firmer. He sounds so far away like he's speaking down an echo chamber. Reyna attempts to stop her rapid breathing, but her chest feels like an underinflated balloon and she can't fill it.

"M-My..." words aren't working. Her hands are shaking. Will lays her back on the cot where she continues breathing rapidly. She can't feel her leg. She can't. It's gone. Her leg is gone. Her throat feels so small, she nearly chokes on her own saliva.

"Hey, hey. Reyna, breathe, just breathe." Will tries to remind her, but she is breathing and it's not helping at all. If her sister could see her now, what would she say? Oh, gods her sister, her stomach lurches up into her throat which is so very tight, that's the only reason she doesn't vomit on poor William.

What on earth had that dream been? An actual dream, or an interaction with a woman who had been dead for the past four years? Reyna didn't particularly want to know, but if it was the latter, then she's beginning to become concerned with her own eventual demise, which is usually something she likes to pretend to doesn't concern her. Will's still trying to get her to stop hyperventilating, but it's not helping much.

"Reyna," Will mutters, his voice is so very distant at this point. Reyna can't breathe, she can hardly feel anything than the crushing weight of foreboding in her chest. Without her leg, she'll have to relearn how to do everything. Sure there were plenty of pirates capable of fighting with only one real limb, but she doesn't want to know how many months of practice that took. How long would she be stumbling around like an uncoordinated ostrich? More importantly, how the hell was she supposed to be the fearsome captain of a gang of pirates if she can't even control her fucking mental state after losing a goddamn leg.

Maybe it's the anger that shakes her out of it, maybe it's the slap to the face, either way, suddenly it's a lot easier to breathe and her cheek stings. Nico di angelo stands beside her, calmly massaging his hand.

"You have a tough face, you know that right?" he complains and Reyna shoots him a glare.

"Shut the hell up di angelo," she grumbles and tries to calm her racing heart. Her hair hangs loosely around her, draping matted locks into her eyes and causing a shadow to fall across her vision. Nico doesn't look particularly happy either, kneeling down beside her.

"Are you alright?" He asks and Reyna closes her eyes, counting to three and pretending that she has some semblance of control over her situation.

"I will be once I skin both you and William alive for removing my leg, while I was conscious." She makes sure the latter part of that sentence is emphasized. Will winces in the back.

"Cap, we're sorry, we wouldn't of if we had any other choice," Reyna raises her hand to cut him off before bringing it up to rub her temples.

"William, I know your practices and I know when it is mandatory to remove an appendage. However, that does not mean you do so when the person is fully conscious." Reyna's sure she can see the color draining from his face as she fixes him with her deadliest glare.

"I, uh, I'll go get Leo," he murmurs before making a run for it, leaving her alone with Nico who looks mildly amused. However, no amount of amusement will ever be able to disguise it when Nico is concerned about something.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asks once again, and Reyna continues running her skull. "Can I get you anything?" he asks again and Reyna nods, trying to get her pounding headache to stop.

"Rum would be a good start, but can you also fill me in on a few details?" she murmurs and watches as Nico rises to grab a mug from across the makeshift tent.

"Sure, what's up?" he returns and deposits the mug on the table, which Reyna takes and begins to down heartily.

"How long have I been out?" Reyna's voice sounds muffled by the mug and she doesn't make any effort to make herself more clear. Right now she's not the fearsome Captain, she's a tired and in pain teenage girl with anger issues.

"About a week," Nico answers and Reyna swears loudly, taking another couple gulps from the mug. The alcohol burns down her throat and she welcomes the sensation.

"What happened on the ship, how'd we end up here?" she asks and Nico sighs, running a hand back through his hair. He looks stressed, which is an accomplishment for someone with a limited amount of expressiveness. Nico's face is usually in one of two positions, glower from the depths of hell, or sadness strong enough to kill a man. Neither of which are particularly pleasant to experience.

"It's... well... Artemis knocked both you and Thalia out, then proceeded to kidnap her and get her entire crew off the ship within two minutes. Then she led us on a wild chase trying to catch up with her ship until the waves got too high and we were separated. Annabeth managed to spot this little rock while we were attempting not to get capsized, and we beached ourselves. The boat isn't horribly damaged, but it'll take a few more weeks at least to get us sea ready again." Nico watched her face, but he should've honestly already known Reyna's reaction. She cursed again, using some choice phrases that would even get Hylla to raise her brows.

"Does the universe really hate me that much? Can it not just give me peace for one fucking year?!" Reyna's voice sounds painful in her own ears, scratchy and hoarse from the screams of her operation. Simply thinking about the experience reminds Reyna she'll never be able to sleep near swords again. Or Will, though she does trust the man, the image of him hacking away with a blood covered machete as she screamed at him to stop will never leave her brain.

"You're a pirate, Reyna, I doubt there's any such thing as peace for us," he sounds solemn, but at times like this Reyna wants to punch him in his philosophically gloomy teeth.

"I meant Thalia!" She yells and her voice cracks horribly. She stops for a minute, trying to compose herself, but she feels like everything is happening all too fast. Thalia's been kidnapped, again; she's lost her leg, seen her dead sister in her dreams, her hands are still shaking, and her rum is beginning to kick in. "I'm tired of not being allowed to just be with the person I love. Is that really too much to ask for?! For the world to fucking leave me alone, I've done my fighting for my right to be with her, I'm tired of having to prove it over and over again." Nico's eyebrows draw together, and Reyna feels too vulnerable right now, too exposed. So, she does what she does best, hides behind a poker face.

"Reyna, I... I can't answer that for you," he sounds so sad, Reyna swallows her grief and buries her emotions under everything else. She's the captain, and injured or not she has to be able to do her job.

"Of course you can't. No one can answer anything the Universe does. It simply just does." Her voice sounds hollow and far away. Nico scowls, onto her strategy right away.

"You can't make me go away by giving me a fortune from a fortune cookie and glaring at the wall, Reyna." Reyna looks him directly in the eyes and doesn't let herself crack for a second.

Leo Valdez and Will Solace come marching back in, Leo clutching several tools, a tape measure that Reyna recognizes, and laughing loudly. Reyna lets her eyes slide away from Nico's and keeps her undivided attention on the two of them.

"Morning capitán, pardon the interruption, but a friend of ours has requested I outfit you with only the finest in prosthetics." Leo grins his impish grin and Nico tries to give him a warning look, but Reyna lets it roll off her shoulders. Better to get this done now then be hobbling around on one leg for the next few weeks.

"I do believe that you have my measurements already, Valdez," she murmurs, and Leo shakes his head.

"Those aren't going to help with a leg, ma'dam, however, this will require you to stand I'm afraid. If that's alright, doctor?" he asks, grinning again, and Will rolls his eyes.

"She's good, she'll probably just need some help with balance and keeping herself out, Nico, if you please?" He suggests. Nico gives him a look, like 'do you want me to die?'

Reyna squashes her emotions down with whatever resolve she has left. She will not lash out at them because they're trying to be helpful. She will not show her anger, she will not show frustration. She is a commander, she must maintain her cool. Reyna's face feels as if it's been etched in stone, impossible to move or change expression.

"Let's get this over with," she murmurs and swings her left leg and what's left of her right one over the side of the cot. Immediately, she feels more than a little nauseous. Nico rushes forwards to keep her from falling off the bed.

"Slow down!" he immediately complains and looks back over at Will. "Are you sure this is safe? She won't pop any stitches or start bleeding again?" Will shakes his head.

"Nico, I promise she's fine, worst case scenario she feels too nauseous from blood loss and passes out," Will says, as if that's supposed to be reassuring.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Reyna complains and smiles sheepishly.

"Right, but seriously, no major health concerns. You'll be fine," he tries again and Reyna isn't buying it.

"Yes, because passing out is completely fine," she growls, and Nico does look a little concerned, but attempts to keep the peace.

"Reyna, I'm sure it's fine, we're here in case anything goes wrong, okay?" he asks, and Reyna makes a couple more grumbling sounds before stretching her arms out.

"Fine, but one of you has to help me, there's no way in hell I can stand on this leg," she grumbles. Nico takes her arms and together they haul her up onto her leg. Leo wastes no time and begins to measure the distance from what's left of her right leg to the ground.

Reyna feels sick, not from the strain of standing, but because of the fact that everything from the middle of her thigh is history, leaving just air touching the sensitive skin of her stub. She can't look at it, and she can't look at Will either without flinching, so instead, she fixes her eyes on the top of Nico's hair.

Then, Leo starts measuring the circumference of her leg, and Reyna feels a rush of agony come lighting up her spine. She gasps, tightening her grip on Nico and nearly losing her balance. He grunts from the sudden crush of the majority of her weight.

"Jesus," he grumbles and Reyna has to squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth to keep from screaming. It feels like a million needles stabbing into her right leg, which is impossible given her leg is no longer there. She curses again, and Nico stumbles, nearly bringing both of them to the ground. Will rushes forwards to keep them from falling, and pure instinct kicks in. Reyna lurches away from Will and falls back on the cot, nearly breaking it from the suddenness of the action, Leo scrambles backward to keep from being kicked in the head, and Will tackles Nico, sending them both crashing to the floor.

This, somehow, doesn't stop the pain crawling around her leg. Reyna bites her lip to try and not scream, but she tastes blood immediately, and the taste of iron makes her stomach lurch, Will scrambles off his boyfriend and tries to look at her leg. Reyna can barely control herself, everything in her is keeping her from screaming or throwing up. Will, coming so close to something she can still see him cutting into is too much. She kicks him with her other leg, sending him rolling away from her.

Nico jumps forwards, attempting to hold her down, and Leo takes up a similar position, but Leo has the strength of a bunny and Nico is only holding onto one appendage. Reyna pulls herself away and curls into a ball, shielding what's left of her leg from everyone but herself.

She remains that way for at least an hour. No matter how much they pull at her, or yell, or get more people to come in and try to uncurl her, she won't. Until finally the pain leaves, leaving a tired and sweaty, shaking Reyna to the mercy of her crewmates who have been needlessly scrambling about trying to figure out what had happened and why had their captain reacted in the way she did.

Surprisingly, it wasn't anyone who'd actually been in the tent to figure it out. It was Lou Ellen. Lou Ellen was the second most capable medic on the ship next to Will, but while Will was skilled, Lou had actual training and a degree in psychology. She had taken one look at Reyna, then heard the story from Nico who gave the most accurate description and answered immediately.

"It's Will." she says and all three boys freeze, looking puzzled.

"What?" Will says, and Lou sighs, lifting herself from the wall to explain. For someone who'd had a hole through her stomach, she looks miraculously fine.

"It's a thing, I don't know the technical term for it, but traumatic events can leave a scar on the human psyche, this causes certain things, people, or even just sounds, to become unable for the victim to handle. An example would be if you were attacked by a man with a knife, then knives might cause you to panic and shake just because they're there. Now, that's an extreme example, usually, it's heavy traumatic events. Such as an amputation," Lou finishes her speech and silence falls across the tent, all eyes shifting towards Will. He doesn't speak for a minute, then glances back at Reyna, who has yet to move.

"So... does that mean..." he doesn't finish.

"I'm sure she'll get over it eventually, you've been close for a long time before the incident. For the time being, perhaps it's better that I handle Reyna's injuries," Lou suggests and Will sighs heavily, dropping his head.

"I can't believe I screwed up that badly," he mutters and Lou frowns sympathetically.

"It's not your fault, I'd have done the same in your place. That leg had to come off, there was no way around that. The brain is a strange machine Solace, you can't always predict what it will do." With that Will leaves the tent, taking Nico and only a couple possessions with him.


	5. From a Sea Witch's Mouth

The sound of the door to Artemis's cabin is the first thing that Thalia is aware of, the second is swearing and then a sudden pain in her lower body.

"Fuck!" she shouts, sitting bolt upright and instantly regretting her decision. The world sways violently and she's hit in the face by some girl's red hair, then by a violent stream of sea spray. Spluttering, coughing, and attempting not to throw up, Thalia rolls off the bed and hides behind it, attempting to figure out what's going on.

Only one problem, Thalia has no idea what the hell is going on. There's a girl with long ginger hair crouched beside her, hiding from the door which is occasionally letting streams of stray water in. Thalia tries to wipe the sea salt away from her face but just ends up touching her bandage and causing a spike of pain to drive itself into her skull. Thalia leans forwards, cursing and cradling her head.

"Shut up!" the ginger growls, clamping a hand over Thalia's mouth. Thalia squeaks in protest but soon falls silent as the door flies open and in tumbles a woman with eyes like a rainbow. Colors all at once in those irises. She's sopping wet and her skin is a deep iridescent blue. She looks around the room, making a sound like a snake and a crocodile combined. Thalia shuts up real quick, eyes wide. The woman stalks forwards, looking around the room and shedding droplets of seawater with each step. The ginger beside Thalia tightens her grip on her, Thalia can feel her muscles tensing beneath her.

Soon, the reptile lady gives up and retreats outside of the cabin, looking for possible prey somewhere else. Both Thalia and the Ginger sink to the floorboards, gasping for the breath they'd been holding.

"What-" Thalia wheezes, "the fuck was that?!" she whisper yells for fear of the woman coming back. The ginger runs a hand back through her long hair, showing off that half of it is missing. As if she'd taken a man's razor to the left side of her skull.

"One of Aphrodite's creatures," she murmurs and Thalia shakes her head, confused.

"Aphrodite?" she questions. The ginger raises an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, y'know, the Sea Witch who likes to drown sailors and gets mad when she can't because they aren't attracted to 'er?" she answers as if that's obvious, she carries a thick Scottish accent. Thalia stares at her.

"Sea Witch?!" she yells, and the ginger's brows both rise into her hairline.

"'aven't met? Lucky you," she decides and starts to stand, but Thalia yanks her back down just in time. The door springs open again. Two more of the creatures come in, hissing loudly. Thalia reaches down and looks for some sort of blunt object that can be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, what she finds is a loose floorboard and a hairbrush. Beside her, the ginger girl curses softly. Both of the creatures come towards their spot, hissing louder. Thalia grabs the floorboard and pulls with all her might. There's a creak, a painful groan of wood, and finally, it snaps into her hands. Both of the creatures come for the sound and Thalia springs upwards with the speed of a viper. Her vision washes black from the strain, but with what's left of her strength she swings the floorboard like a cricket bat. She hears the satisfactory smack of flesh and tumbles back to the floor. Her head is swimming and she can hardly move. She feels, assumingly, the ginger pulling the floorboard from her hands and whacking a few more times.

"Jesus fuck," Thalia mutters, trying to clear her head and vision. It takes a full minute of laying on the floor and struggling for her to be able to see again. She finds the other girl has succeeded in getting one of the ladies down and is wrestling with the second one, apparently matched with equal strength. Thalia claws her way to her feet, leaning against the bedpost and clutching the only weapon she has left. She throws and the hairbrush strikes the creature across the face. It shrieks horribly and gives the ginger girl the distraction she needs to knock her over, slamming downwards with the floor board. Blood spurts from the wound, or what Thalia thinks is blood. It's about the same consistency, blue purple in color rather than red.

"Not bad, for a mor'al," the ginger mutters, glancing over at Thalia who just about collapses. She rushes forwards to keep her from banging her head and giving herself another injury.

"M-Mortal?" Thalia questions, but her voice sounds far away from her own ears. The other girl helps her back to the bed where Thalia promptly settles to keep herself from passing out. She grips onto the ginger girl to keep her balance. She kneels down next to her.

"Yeah, mor'al. As in not a 'unter or a sea witch," she mutters and lifts Thalia's bangs to look at her head wound, hissing in sympathy. "Wow, 'at's a bad one."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Thalia growls, before realizing that she'd slipped back into her British accent. She winces and tries to clear her head. The ginger's accent is reminding her too much of her time in the British Navy.

"Another countryman, been a while since I ran into one that was a fellow pirate," the ginger mutters before standing and beginning to root through Artemis's nightstand.

"Two things, first off, what're you doing in here. Second, who the hell are you?!" Thalia complains. The ginger produces a grin, showing off teeth a little too sharp for comfort.

"The name's Phoebe, as fer what 'm doin' 'ere, Artemis told me to make sure these nasties didn't kill ya," she mutters and pulls a bottle of something from the nightstand and moves to give it to Thalia, "jus' take a couple sips from that, trust me, it's strong." Thalia gives her a dubious look but doesn't complain. She'd rather attempt to clear her head then suffer for any longer then she has too. With a mutter of silent prayer, she takes a few sips, and chokes. It tastes like liquid silver which is rather unpleasant and makes her feel sick. However, that quickly fades and is replaced with the fact that her head has stopped pounding.

"What is that," Thalia wheezes and Phoebe smiles like a dagger.

"It's a 'ittle personal concoction of ours called moon water." Phoebe leaves Thalia at the bed and walks over to look at the creatures she'd just beat the everloving crap out of. She shows off her slightly pointed teeth again as she smiles. "Y'know, I dunno what I expected, but you've got a hand at this stuff."

"Why thank you," Thalia murmurs dryly, still a little shaken up. "I've only been fighting for, say, my entire life." Phoebe laughs, a gurgling noise that makes Thalia immediately think of blood. She shivers.

"Your life, eh? 'Ow long has that been exactly?" she asks and Thalia is appalled, but decides to play along.

"Twenty years," she drawls, taking another sip of the 'Moon Water' to stop the dizziness that's threatening to close in around her.

"Twenty, you old woman." There's some sort of joke to this, Thalia can tell. Phoebe is smirking like she's already delivered the punchline. Part of Thalia thinks she knows what's being insinuated.

"What, like fourteen is old?" she asks, sneering and showing off her own teeth. Phoebe laughs again. The sound is unpleasant as always.

"I think that two thousand is quite old meself," Phoebe murmurs casually. Thalia chokes on her moonwater.

"What?!" she yells and Phoebe raises her brows. One of them is scarred, a bandage peeks from underneath her shirt.

"Ye really don'know do ya?" she asks and Thalia wheezes, only beginning to regain her oxygen.

"Know what? That you're crazy and expect me to believe you're two thousand years old? Because you've made that abundantly clear," Thalia snaps back. Phoebe shakes her head.

"No wonder Artemis saw 'is as punishment. You mor'als have such a lack of imagination." Phoebe crosses back over to her. Thalia throws up her hands.

"What the hell does this even mean? I'm sorry but 'not a hunter or sea witch' isn't terribly good context!" Thalia's face feels hot. In fact everything does. She glances at the moonwater once more, but Phoebe drops it back into Artemis's nightstand.

"Mor'al means, in the simplest terms, not one of us. It means ya get older, and ya die." Phoebe is much too chipper about the subject of death for Thalia's taste. Thalia shivers from the word.

"So you're insinuating that you're above death?" she asks and Phoebe rolls her eyes.

"Please, I can die, just not the same way you can," Phoebe's teeth are remarkably sharklike.

"And you expect me to believe this, why?" she asks finally. Phoebe throws up her hands.

"OH I'm sorry, I just thought maybe smacking two women in the face who then proceed to bleed  _bloody_  purple would be a little bit obvious! Or, maybe, you just prefer being an absolute  _twat_  to anybody who speaks to ye!" Thalia blinks, startled slightly by her outburst, and evidently isn't the only one. The door springs open and in comes three more of the women with the rainbow eyes.

"You've gotta be foockin' kidding me," Phoebe mutters and Thalia forces her legs to take her weight once more.

"You can lecture me later, right now, I'd prefer not to be killed," Thalia's vision is swimming, but her strength has returned thanks to the moon water. She pries one of the bedposts from the frame and brandishes it like a staff. The first women charges.

It's a lot of fighting and screaming on their part, but eventually, the rainbow eyed women overpower them and drag them down the stairs to where a large group of hunters are wrestling with even more of them. And they just keep coming. More and more waves of rainbow women pour over the sides of the boats. Some of them have iridescent skin that glows a light blue color like the algae that occasionally will attach itself to the sides of Thalia's boat. Others have skin darker than night and swallow up the shadows with everything except their eyes. Some are tall, some are short, but they all have one thing in common. Their striking beauty, in the most otherworldly sense that Thalia can think of.

Some of them look male, others female, some have no specific look to them but could still pass for human if outfitted properly. The ones that hold Thalia and Phoebe are tall, but a shorter creature leads them through the fighting hunters towards who Thalia assumes to be their leader.

She's even more gorgeous than the creatures. Her skin changes colors as frequently as her creature's eyes, her hair flows in a wave of curls that remind Thalia of Hazel like a punch to the gut. Thalia glances at her face she can't look away. Strikes of gold line her eyes and glisten across her skin like the freckles that adorn Thalia's own. Her lips are full and lustrous, a perfect wine dark red that makes something primal in Thalia wine. Her lips pull into a smile at the reaction, showing off teeth like polished pearls. The creatures spill both Phoebe and Thalia to the floor, but in that brief second of weightlessness, Thalia sees the woman's eyes and something inside her explodes. They're Reyna's eyes.

I see we finally found an interesting one, Artemis, care to tell me who this little darling is?" the woman asks. Thalia's startled because she's speaking in perfect french and she hasn't spoken the language in years, but the words still make perfect sense to her tired years. The woman smiles dazzlingly at Artemis who stands beside her. She hasn't aged inexplicably again, instead, she's still the same twenty-two-year-old Thalia last saw, but that primordial beauty that Thalia had sensed in her suddenly makes a lot more sense.

"Y-You're a sea witch," Thalia gasps, not sure if she's addressing Artemis or the other woman. Artemis grimaces at the words, the other woman beams.

"Work that one out on your own? I'm impressed, usually takes Humans a lot longer to tell that Sister dearest isn't one of them," she smiles again and Thalia feels a little bit more swimmy headed than before.

"I don't think Sea Witch is a terribly accurate description for either of us, and I'm not your sister," Artemis drawls, glaring daggers at the other woman who doesn't stop smiling.

"Same father dearest," she reminds Artemis who throws her hands in the air.

We don't have a father! We're physical manifestations of human imagination!" She yells. The other woman sighs, rolling her eyes.

"You take the fun out of everything, I don't think your little lieutenant would like you talking like that," she chastises. Artemis's face turns beet red, a strange expression for someone Thalia now knows for certain isn't human.

"That is none of your business," her voice is thunder again. The fighting pauses around them, Hunters and creatures alike watching with baited breath.

"Anything involving love is my business sister dear, that includes you." Artemis looks ready to strangle her, but before she can move something wraps around her. Thalia blinks, noticing for the first time the giant cocoon of seaweed currently encasing the lower half of Artemis's body.

"I swear to Zeus when I get out of here-" Artemis's threats are cut off by a particularly thick bit of seaweed wrapping around her mouth. She makes muffled protests, but the second woman's attention has left her to concentrate on Thalia, who becomes rooted to the spot upon the other woman's gaze. Again, she's struck with the fact that Reyna's eyes are the ones looking down at her, there's even the same pattern of gold in the obsidian irises. Her stomach turns, unsettled.

"Wh-Who are you," she asks, trying to mentally remind herself that Reyna's mom is dead and that Reyna is an ocean away. The woman smiles dazzlingly.

"Who do you see?" she asks instead of answering Thalia's question. Thalia shakes her swimming head, trying to get herself to focus.

"You're not her," Thalia lets a little venom drip into her voice, her eyes are pressed shut. Whatever kind of magic the other woman is attempting to work over her, her eyes are only making it worse.

"You didn't answer my question," it's Reyna's voice. Thalia's eyes snap open in shock and she finds that the woman is gone, replaced by Reyna, and they're alone, back in the Captain's Quarters aboard their own ship. Thalia blinks, shaking her head, this has to be some kind of hallucination.

"No. You're not her." Her voice sounds weak in her own ears. Reyna raises a perfectly sculpted brow, standing from her seat on their bed to walk towards where Thalia's seated. She shivers, backing away instinctively.

"Are you feeling okay Thalia?" she asks, leaning down to be on her eye level. The hair on the back of Thalia's neck stands up. This is wrong, Reyna's voice is never that feminine. Reyna's concerned expression includes her nose scrunching up and her lips pursing. This thing is too loose in her movements, too feminine, too open with her expressions.

"Stop. I'm not falling for your bullshit," Thalia snarls, confident now in her beliefs. The woman smiles in Reyna's face, it still feels fundamentally wrong to see the wrong expressions on someone she knows so well.

"You really are different than these hunters, good to meet you, Thalia Grace, I do hope you indulge me for a little longer." The scene fades, the captain's quarters shifts back to Artemis's boat and the fighting Hunters have calmed down enough to stand intimidatingly around them, held back only by the creatures. Phoebe is laying on the ground next to Thalia, and she looks impressed.

"I don't fink I've seen anyone get through her 'at fast," Phoebe murmurs and dodges the fist of one of the creatures.

"What the hell is going on, and who are you?" Thalia demands once more. The woman has yet to shed Reyna's form, and it makes Thalia so very uncomfortable.

"The name is Aphrodite, as for what's going on, would you like to explain sister dear?" Aphrodite smiles at Artemis who is glaring at her in her seaweed prison. She doesn't make any motion, and Aphrodite takes that as a yes, releasing her mouth. She spits as soon as her mouth is free.

"If you call me Sister Dear once more you're going to have to deal with a lot more than angry huntresses," she snarls darkly and Aphrodite holds up her hands in surrender. "As for the question, Thalia Grace, what is going on is someone is demanding payment for passing through her sector of the ocean, and she's not going to get it given my sailors are sworn not to take place in such activities."

Aphrodite rolls her eyes, "Currently I spot two possible candidates." Artemis scowls further.

"You want to call me 'Sister Dear' and then suggest that?"

"I wasn't talking about you, however, if you're offering-"

"Forget I said anything." Artemis's gaze would kill Aphrodite if she were human, Thalia's sure of it. "Whom are you suggesting then?" she asks.

"Well, we have Grace right here," Aphrodite smiles viciously in Thalia's direction, who shrinks under her gaze, bile rising in her stomach. "And someone who is currently not under your protection as a punishment I do believe."

"Bloody 'ell NO!" Phoebe yells, a look of pure disgust crossing her face. "In your dreams fish face!"

Aphrodite smiles back at Thalia. "Then I do believe we have a winner."

"Okay look, lady," Thalia begins to attempt to stand, "First off, I'm already committed, which you should know with your whole 'love' act. Second, I'm a prisoner for these guys-girls," Thalia amends herself when she catches a few glares from the surrounding Hunters. "So I'm not exactly keen on helping them in any sense of the word."

Aphrodite turns her head over. Her smile finally dies and she turns to Artemis. "So it comes to this, either you willingly hand someone over, or I take half your hunters by force and you get the hell out of my waters." Artemis glares back, but something in her resolve breaks, Thalia can see it in the way the muscles in her jaw clench.

"Phoebe," Artemis says finally after a stretched out silence. Phoebe's eyes widen in indignation.

"After two thousand years?!" she begins to shout, but Artemis sends her a glare that silences her. Something in Thalia's stomach drops, and she's already cringing before Artemis speaks.

"Duck." The sound of something exploding is all that Thalia registers before she's on the deck, her brain is vibrating inside her skull, and she can taste blood once again.

"Everyone down!" she hears a hunter she doesn't recognize yell and another explosion rocks the deck. Thalia is reminded of cannon fire, but a thousand times louder and a hundred times hotter. Her face feels scorched to the bone and she can hardly see anything except her own blood which has dripped into her eyes. Across the deck, she faintly makes out the two shapes of women who are far too powerful to be contained, fighting. One stays in her womanly form, the other shifts between so many different animals that Thalia can't even hope to keep up.

The deck rocks once more, and she faintly hears someone yell, "Close your eyes!" Thalia doesn't have time to heed the warning or the presence of mind. The two women go supernova and Thalia's brain turns itself inside out.

~

She wakes up in peaceful water. The boat rocks over the waves gently as Thalia struggles to breathe, only to find that the motion is impossible. Despite that, she's not uncomfortable. Next to her stands a familiar woman with long black hair and dark eyes.

"Hylla?!" Thalia rasps, her voice sounds awful from her own mouth. She retches, but nothing comes out. Hylla looks at her, something is horribly sad in her dark eyes. The same sword that stole her life protrudes from her chest.

"You know, I don't see hide nor tail of you or Reyna for years, and now I'm suddenly getting visits from both," she murmurs. Thalia shoots upright, nothing in her aches, but she notices a bad burn on her arm and can feel the sticky blood flowing down her face.

"What are you- am I dead?!" Thalia claps a hand to her head, feeling the flow of blood. Hylla laughs, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Only for a minute at most. I doubt Artemis will be letting you get away so easily, she's got too much riding on you right now, Hades specified he wanted you alive." Hylla's eyes slide so easily past Thalia like she can't even see her. Thalia attempts to process what's going on.

"So... I'm actually dead?!" she clarifies. Hylla nods, not looking terribly concerned.

"You should consider yourself lucky, most of us don't get out of here so quick," Hylla murmurs. Thalia looks around, seeing nothing but endless gray ocean in all directions.

"Where is  _here_  exactly?" she asks. She can't process she's dead. Something in her brain just won't work.

"Limbo. It's a world that layers itself directly atop the living one. It's where souls who don't have anywhere else to go end up." Hylla's eyes stare at something only she can see. Thalia tries and fails to take in a breath.

"Is... is my mom here?" she finds herself whispering the words, not sure why she'd expect Hylla to even try to find that woman. Surprising her, Hylla shakes her head.

"That woman is where she belongs, somewhere that burns hotter than the sun," That at least gets her eyes to focus once more. Thalia swallows uneasily.

"And... Luke?" she questions once more, Hylla chews the inside of her cheek, glancing over at Thalia, for the first time her eyes seem to actually see her.

"I... I don't know. I haven't seen, nor heard of him but I doubt there's anywhere else he could've ended up. Unless he got reborn." Thalia wants to ask what happened, why Hylla looks so hollow. Then she remembers her previous words. A visit from her and Reyna.

"Is Reyna okay? What was she doing here? Please tell me Artemis didn't hurt her, or that she died in that goddamn storm-!" Thalia begins spewing it all out in one breath and Hylla places a hand on Thalia's face to shut her up.

"Good to see you haven't changed much," Hylla chuckles, laughter lines pull at her young face. She's only about a year and a half older than herself now. "And as far as I know Reyna is fine, she showed up after a brief brush with too much blood loss."

"Blood loss? What happened?" Thalia tries again in vain to draw in breath that wont come. It's too weird, not quite painful, but not comfortable either. Hylla sucks on her bottom lip.

"The world of Limbo and the living realm are connected, meaning I can walk through and observe things happening in the living world without being discovered or noticed, but I like to keep myself out of my sister's business." Hylla sends Thalia a vaguely sad look.

"You're saying that your own younger sister almost died and you didn't think It'd be a good Idea to see why?!" Thalia roars. Hylla frowns.

"Well, when you put it that way it sounds a lot worse than it was," Hylla mutters and Thalia throws up her hands in disbelief. The gray ocean ripples calmly from the rocking of the boat, there are no waves other than the ones that Hylla and herself create from moving themselves.

"It's not like that Thalia it's just... imagine having to watch someone you love constantly throw themselves into danger and the path of destruction and you can't do anything about it. It's torture, plain and simple. I stopped watching Reyna a long time ago because I simply couldn't take it." Hylla sighs and runs a hand back through her hair. Thalia sighs, taking a moment to compose herself before being able to make eye contact with Hylla once more. Hylla stares at her with a sense of pain.

"I don't... I'm sorry it's just. I'm kinda in this whole hunter mess right now and I'm worried about her," Thalia hopes that's some sort fo excuse for her outburst, but watches, mystified, as Hylla begins to laugh.

"If you think you're concerned I can almost guarantee that Reyna's pulling her hair out by this point. You do realize this is technically the second time you've been kidnapped right?"

"Don't remind me. Actually, it's the fourth time, thank you very much, captain," Thalia stuck out her tongue in a teasing manner while Hylla rolls her eyes.

"Reyna had your consent the second time, I don't think you can call that kidnapping."

"The second time."

"Fair enough," Hylla stretches, popping her back. "Honestly I'm surprised you're not freaking out more, I did when I died and I knew I was coming here."

"Oh no, I'm freaking out, it's just the shock has numbed me for now," Thalia glances over the waters, still nothing is visible in any direction.

"Eh... lucky you."

"Hylla, quick question, do you know why Hades wants me?" Thalia watches as Hylla heaves a deep breath. She combs a hand back through her hair, pressing her lips together.

"There are... you have to understand, Thalia, that the world is a lot more mysterious than people back in England would want you to believe." Thalia watches as Hylla wrings out her wrists. "That being said there are certain bloodlines that can be traced back a long, long way. Traced to a single family. Those blood lines split into twelve separate clans. In each clan, there will always be a descendant of those twelve original children who is the reincarnation of that child. That person cannot die unless killed by someone else of the bloodline."

"Hang on, what?!" Thalia tries to wrap her brain around Hylla's words and comes up empty.

"It's like this, okay. A long, long time ago there were a father and a mother. They gave birth to twelve children, each with their own powers and abilities. The eldest was a man named Hades, he bore the mark of death and would bring it in his wake as long as he lived. The next was a woman named Demeter who gave life to all she touched. Then a man named Poseidon whom all water bowed to, the very tides controlled by a simple hand wave. And so on, twelve children all of certain significance and powers, yadda yadda. Anyway, the important players here are Hades, Poseidon, Zeus, and Artemis."

"You're not claiming that there are two thousand-year-old people walking around who can't die, are you?" Thalia prays that this is all just a fucked up fever dream.

"Of course not! The original ones died a long time ago. But whenever they die a new one is born and they grow up to take the place of the former one. The modern Zeus is, of course, the King of England, Poseidon is the King of France, and Hades is... Hades." Hylla's voice is smooth, but Thalia can tell from her eyes that she thinks it's freaky as well. "Artemis is a pirate. I'm not entirely sure how they got there, but that's the important part."

"So... Hades wants me because I'm the bloodline of this insanely old fairy family?" Thalia sums up and Hylla hums.

"Well I wouldn't call it Fairy, and there's more to it than that. You see the blood lines of gbhgruer ghgreo oioifro-"

"What?!" Everything sounds as if it's underwater. Thalia watches Hylla's mouth move but understands none of it. Hylla seems to understand and gives Thalia a sad look. Her vision is fading to white, washing in and out of focus. Hylla gives her a hug, but Thalia can barely feel it, like a ghost on a breeze. With a horrible rattling cough, Thalia awakes.

~

The sun comes stabbing into her eyes with a vengeance. Thalia doesn't even have the strength to move her face out of the way, but she's grateful for the oxygen coursing through her lungs.

"-She's strong. Most wouldn't hold up with that much raw exposure-"

"-nearly died, but her body held together-"

"-Guess that means she really is descended from one of 'em-"

"-Artemis is gonna be pissed-"

Thalia hears snippets of conversation but understands none of it. It's all too fragmented, too far away. She's swimming, falling, weightless. Tumbling end over end and spiraling out of control, but the energy to care is long, long gone.

So Thalia falls, she falls and for once forgets she's afraid of heights.


	6. New Faces and Tired Tongues

Zoë is personally going to paint the walls of this cave with Hades’ blood. It doesn't matter that she physically can't kill him, Artemis can and she is sure that her lady will let her do the honors if she asks. Of course, that means that Artemis will have to get back here first. Zoë doesn't really know why Artemis hadn't just killed Hades in the first place, or at least fought him. They were evenly matched as far as she could tell.

However, that might actually be why she didn't fight him. Artemis was the oldest at this point, the only one of twelve who was still in her original body. The others had gotten themselves killed dozens of times over, Apollo most notably. Artemis might just be avoiding another possible death, Zoë had known the goddess long enough to think it probable. It was easy to see that upon reincarnation, not all the memories came back as they aged. Artemis was now well over three thousand years old and likely had more memories than all of the human race combined.

Death could completely destroy the hunters. Artemis had no other members of her bloodline except (technically) Apollo’s relatives and they didn't know if she could be reincarnated into that bloodline at all. At this point, it was just safer to avoid death altogether. So, yes it was safer not to fight Hades, and Zoë could understand that from a logical standpoint. However, Artemis wasn't the most logical individual. She was wild and primal, driven by instinct and emotions in the most violent sense. She would just as soon think about what was supposed to be done as would a young child. Zoë respects her goddess, no question, but she was often the one reigning her in despite the obvious power difference. Respect your elders. Zoë always found that human saying comical.

“Food.” a gruff voice interrupts her thought process and Zoë looks up to glare into the eyes of one of Hades’ lackeys. She has to hand it to the man, Hades made good work of his element. She doubts there are any other matriarchs of their bloodline so in tune with their element they could wield it so spectacularly. Hades makes good on it, having the souls of those he deems evil enough serving him for eternity. It is remarkable, it would be more so if he wasn’t, of course, using it to keep her bound.

Hades is, in no way shape or form, inherently cruel. In fact, the man is soft underneath that scowl, very soft. However, Hades is also a bloodline known for misfortune and, unsurprisingly, premature death. Zoë is sure that the reigning Hades was always the only adult of the Hades bloodline she’d met. This time around the reigning Hades is at around fifty, remarkable for the bloodline, and as far as Zoë knows, only had one child. The poor girl hadn’t had much of a chance at life.

That had to twist Hades though, memories of not only dying but watching others of his bloodline die before ever even reaching adulthood grated on you, Zoë knows that from personal experience. She partially blames his neglect to reign in his lackeys on that. The other part of Zoë knows that the moment she’s out of these binds she’ll rip his throat out of his neck with her teeth.

The current guard drops a plate with nothing more than a biscuit on it. Zoë doesn’t even attempt to eat it, knowing full well that the guards just like watching her struggle with her hands bound behind her back and feet chained to the wall. The guard glared back, green eyes smoldering at her defiance.

“Eat. You won’t get anything else until tomorrow.” He barks. He has to be a new one then if he doesn’t already know what she is doing. Zoë just keeps glaring at him. Finally, he throws up his arms in frustration. “Whatever, starve, see if I care.” As he turns to leave, Zoë lets a chuckle rasp in her throat.

“I do believe Hades will care,” she reminds the young man. He stiffens, turning back to glare at her.

“Your point?”

“My point is I doubt thy wants to die again.” Zoë watches the man’s face turn into a snarl.

“You filthy little bitch, you don’t know shit about me, and If I was even a little more dignified I might just fucking teach you who you’re messing with.” His face is red and his shoulders heave.

“Thou is the previous matriarch of the Ares line, killed by Thalia Grace, daughter of the current Zeus. The real question here, Ares, is does thee know who is  _thou_  messing with?” Zoë makes sure to spit her words. Ares’s face turns a deep purple color, Zoë lets a smile play at her lips. “Thou is poking fun at the right hand of another Matriarch much older than thee with much more experience. So, if thou would like to not die again, I advise thee to help me here.” Zoe just watches him as he shakes physically. Clearly, he’s debating whether he can strangle her and get away with it.

“Need I remind thee that I’m older than thy, all of your’ past lives combined?” With that Ares finally slumps his shoulders and kneels down, picking up the biscuit and holding it for Zoe to eat. After her meal, she dismisses the guard and watches him stomp away, tail between his legs.

If she were perhaps a year or two younger she wouldn’t hold the power she does over him, but all of the matriarchs fear those that came before them, Zoe is officially the last of the old ones and though that apparently doesn’t stop Hades from kidnapping her, it does usually stop most provoked attacks. Artemis had gotten passage through Aphrodite’s channel several times simply for that reason. Hades must really have a grudge to hold against that child of Zeus if he’d be desperate enough to kidnap her and potentially set off the entirety of the other Matriarchs.

Unless, of course, he _wants_  their attention. But that’s weird for Hades. He hates attention, and more than that, he’d do anything not to attract it. However, kidnapping the last old one, holding her for ransom, and demanding the eldest child of the current Zeus is certainly a way to obtain it. Maybe his bone to pick is with Zeus rather than the child if so Zoe feels bad for the kid. Hades isn’t outright cruel, but the aching of untreated wounds on her neck and head remind her that he’s not inherently kind either.

That being said, neither is her goddess when she gets very caught up in something and through all of her faults, Zoe knows that Artemis does care about her very deeply. She only hopes Artemis doesn’t treat the girl as badly as her current host is treating her.

~~

“Will-wrong tent-” a familiar voice echoes in Reyna’s ear and she pries open her eyes to glare at the speaker. Percy Jackson stands in the tent entrance looking both sheepish and a bit panicked. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he’d just run a mile. Sitting up slowly Reyna pulls a hand back through her hair to try and wake herself up.

“Jackson, what the hell do are you doing up? You’re not usually up until even noon,” Reyna grumbles and palms half heartedly for the makeshift crutch Lou had given her three days prior. Percy smiles sheepishly, already backing out of the tent.

“Nothing, nothing, Piper just caught a stomach bug or something and I was coming to see if I could get something for her,” he rose his hands in surrender, but by his expression, Reyna knew he was lying for her benefit. Everyone had been recently. Calling for either Nico or Will and when they were faced with her instead they’d lie. They thought they were being helpful of course, don’t put stress on the captain with a missing leg, but Reyna was getting tired of feeling powerless and antsy from the lack of things to do. So, she stood, leaning on her crutch to support the weight of her missing leg.

“You don’t ‘get’ things for stomach bugs Jackson, and I can smell your adrenaline from here, what’s really going on,” Reyna growls her words and watches Percy swallow nervously.

“Okay! Okay, it’s well…” he stops, and Reyna doubts she’s ever seen him look so nervous.

“Spit it out, Jackson.”

“I thought she was just sick, but then Annabeth kept saying something about Piper acting weird, or whatever and now she thinks Piper’s pregnant so-”

“Wait, what?!” Reyna interjects, rubbing her temples. Pregnant. One of their own, pregnant. Shit. “Perseus Fucking Jackson are you telling me that you got Piper pregnant?!”

“I don’t know!” Percy yells back, face flushed and anxiety rolling off of him in waves. Reyna swallows her own concern to calm her nerves. This is Percy’s child, or possibly Percy’s child, not hers. She is the captain, but ultimately it’s Percy, Piper, and Annabeth’s problem of whether the kid makes it or not. Giving birth is risky enough, giving birth as a pirate is practically a death sentence.

“Okay, Jackson, go find Will or Lou and just… get that che-” Reyna cuts herself off. Her eyes have slipped past Percy to settle on the rising sun behind him. Her blood runs cold. Percy knits his brow.

“What?” he asks and turns to follow Reyna’s gaze. His shoulders tense and he reaches for a sword that isn’t there.

“We’ve got company, get ready what we can, it looks like a military ship.” Reyna barks her words and turns to get back in her tent and try at least to look intimidating. Perhaps the missing leg will even help, but Percy’s already run off, yelling for Will and Nico. Reyna feels her stomach drop. She can deal with a lot of things, but being overthrown as captain simply because of a missing appendage is not one of them.

~~

Jason’s sure it’s them. The ship’s mast bears the symbol he’d found branded everywhere he looked for information on the pirates and their crew. He, just like Rachel had told him, found little. A pair of run away noblewoman from Spain ran it, sisters. The eldest was captain. Hylla Ramirez-Arellano. He does know the name Ramirez-Arellano, has spoken with dignitaries with the name before. He doubts this meeting will go the same way.

However, he was so close now, so very close. Somewhere on that rocky outcrop was Thalia Grace, and he couldn’t wait to finally meet her. He’d seen paintings of course, but all of those detailed a little girl with a sprinkle of freckles that Jason hadn’t seen in either side of his family and hair black as storm clouds. If anyone she looked like his father, Zeus, and bore the same sharp eyes as him. In fact, in the paintings, the baby girl looked absolutely nothing like him. However, Jason had prayed that was simply because the paintings detailed the girl painted to look like their father and not the mother neither of them were supposed to have.

Now, he gets to find out. Of course, none of the pirates look particularly friendly, but it’s not like he expected them to. He made sure the white flag had been flying when they spotted the ship in the first place. Now he makes sure that it’s visible from the shoreline. The last thing he needs is for this to break out into a battle. Rachel’s expression is something between intrigued and concerned.

“Their ship is busted,” she notes as they draw nearer, and Jason notes that the Roman’s ship does have a gaping hole in the side. He frowns.

“Well I doubt that many Pirates stop on land just for the pleasantness of it.” he murmurs. Rachel hums consideringly. She glances at him

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” He asks.

“Making the puppy face, you need to calm down or they aren’t going to take you seriously.” Rachel’s always so concerned with images. It’s never about the truth with her, it’s about what you present to the others. He guesses he should be more concerned with his image as future King, but he believes that if the people see him as he is they won't hate him as much as they hate his father.

“Alright, but considering they’re pirates I doubt they care what I look like,” he mutters as they begin to drop anchor. A couple of the sailors rush by to drop a lifeboat in the water for their boarding.

“As pirates they respect power, and that’s it. If you want them not to kill us we have to make them think that we’re the ones in control here. If they think they are they’ll take advantage of us.”

“I’m not negotiating with them Rachel, I just want to meet my sister.”

“Then show them you’re related to her. I doubt they see her as an over excited golden retriever.”

Jason pouts and Rachel smiles, diving off the boat and sliding down the rope ladder. He’s not entirely sure how she does that without getting rope burn.

“You’re being over dramatic.” He complains.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I haven’t seen her in fifteen years, is that a crime?”

“Neither has she, have you even considered she might not even know she has a brother?” Rachel’s struck a nerve, and she knows she did. Jason turns to face her in their boat as they wait for a few sailors to lower themselves in.

“I didn’t know I had a sister, so I guess we’ll be in the same boat. No pun intended.” he amends at Rachel’s look of done.

“You fully intended that one, don’t lie.” With that Rachel plops herself down. For someone so concerned with images she didn’t even dress for the occasion. She’d made sure that Jason was dressed in his nicest uniform, chest decorated with medals, while she herself donned the sailor’s uniform, a dagger at her belt that she’d stolen from the armory under the deck.

“Why aren’t you at least in an army uniform?” Jason asks as they begin their row towards the shore where a party of three men is waiting to greet them. One is short and dark haired, the others are tall and intimidating. Jason scans for the famed Hylla Ramirez-Arellano but spots no woman fitting the description.

“Because this is more comfortable to move in if I need to fight,” Rachel answers and Jason raises his brows.

“You have no idea how to actually use that,” Jason gestures to the knife at her belt. Rachel shrugs.

“No time to learn like the present.”

“Yeah, we’re avoiding conflict,” Jason decides and Rachel shrugs again. It’s five minutes of rowing for them to reach the shore. The greeting party is armed and brandishing their swords menacingly. The shortest one of them, a pale boy with dark eyes and darker hair glares at Jason.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing lobsters?” He snarls at them, voice thick with an accent that is a mixture of several things. There’s a hint of British, but also Italian like his roots.

“I’m not here to fight, I only wish to speak with your captain,” Jason mutters, prepared to bargain if he has to, this can’t break into a fight.

“You’ll go get back on your boat and leave,” the blonde boy growls back, stepping up beside the shorter dark haired one. Both of them are considerably older than Jason, but he’s still taller.

“I did not come all this way to get stopped here, I’ll pay,” he responds, hoping the prospect of gold will convince them. The other boy, tall and bronzed, almost his own height, steps forwards.

“We don’t want or need your charity, pretty boy. Now get back on your ship.” His green eyes glint like the sea itself and something in Jason’s chest clenches at the notion.

“I’m not leaving,” Jason growls back.

“Look, kid, I don’t know what you want with us, but you’re not getting it,” the shorter boy speaks again, and Jason snaps his attention back to him. Before he can speak another voice interrupts.

“If you’re all done showing off your lengths perhaps you’d like to actually get some shit done?” Jason blinks at the abrupt use of language and all of them turn towards the speaker. It must be Hylla, she certainly fits the description. Tall, dark haired and skinned with tones arms and trademark purple coat. Her eyes scan over him, black like obsidian, and Jason feels horribly underdressed despite however decorated he is. Her stance radiates power and her very presence is more intimidating than his father, the literal King of England.

Then he notices the leg. Or lack of, really. The great Hylla Ramirez-Arellano only had one leg. If Jason wasn’t scared before he certainly was now. Behind him Rachel’s shoulders tense and she steps beside him, hand on her dagger, Jason tries to push her back.

“Miss Ramirez-Arellano,” He remarks, and Hylla’s lip curls.

“Skip the formalities, who are you and what the hell do you want?” Hylla’s apparently very to the point. Jason observes as she shifts her stance, letting her weight fall more onto the staff she holds in her left hand.

“Right,” Jason swallows his nerves and squares his shoulders, trying to regain his stance. “Jason Grace, son of Zeus and apparent brother of Thalia Grace. I’m looking for my sister.”

Jason expected an eyebrow raise, or surprise, or a calling over. Instead, the woman’s expression turns from controlled anger to sorrow.

“You and I both,” she mutters and looks over at her apparent guard, all three boys looking tense. “Prepare a tent, we have much to discuss.”

“Reyna-” the shortest boy begins, and ‘Hylla’ glares him down.

“That’s an order di angelo. Not a request.” Her shoulders are weighed with something only she can see and di angelo backs off. He turns and walks away with the other boys while ‘Reyna’ turns to face him again.

“Your sister was kidnapped two weeks ago. If you want her back you’ll have to help us find her.”

~~

Thalia wakes up with a pounding skull and ringing ears. Painfully, she rolls over only to discover she’s right back where she started, in the bed of Artemis, bandaged around the head, and filled with so much agony she can barely force herself to breathe. She lets out a groan of frustration and drops her head back onto the bed, letting her entire body just stop.

“It’d hurt less if you’d listen to warnings,” a familiar voice commands and Thalia doesn’t even bother opening her eyes.

“I’m not the one that went off like a fucking exploding star,” Thalia’s voice is back to a rasping whisper. Artemis hums in distaste.

“That’s a way I’ve never heard it described before. However, I’ve only ever heard it described once before so there isn’t much competition.”

“Har, har, har. What the hell was that anyway?” Thalia doesn’t even bother moving when Artemis sits down on the bed beside her and begins pressing her sponge to Thalia’s face. This is too similar to last time.

“I’m… well, how much do you actually know about what my hunters and I are?” Artemis’s voice is somewhere between curious and teasing.

“Actually know, or think I know because of a fucked up fever dream I had?” Thalia questions, recalling the conversation with one dead Hylla Ramirez-Arellano. That had to be a dream, right?

“Fever dream?” Artemis questions and Thali sighs.

“Not important, you’re some sort on ancient bloodline/goddess/sea witch, whatever you wanna call it. Look, lady, I don’t care what you are, I just want to know why I’m stuck in this mess and why every fucking person is obsessed with kidnapping me?!” Thalia lets her voice crack uncontrollably, lets her body scream in protest, lets every aspect of the massive amounts of pain she’s in come out. At this point she’s got nothing left to lose, she literally died and has seen the afterlife, and she ain’t scared of shit anymore. She glares at Artemis with tired, bloodshot eyes, and growls in a horrible broken voice.

Artemis looks tired, even more so than before. Her auburn hair hangs around her face in a mess of curls and her face is caked in soot and some sort of gold liquid that has the consistency of blood. Dark circles hang under her eyes like black eyes and her bones protrude from her skin uncomfortably sharp. Those silver eyes cut into Thalia like knives and Thalia lets them.

“Close enough. I’m the last remaining of the original matriarchs,” Artemis murmurs and Thalia makes a faint noise of surprise. She feels too tired and too numbed out from actually fucking dying to care that the woman sitting next to her is more than three thousand years old.

“So that gives you the power of changing your age?” she asks and Artemis laughs. It’s a throaty sound that sounds painful, like something is stabbing Artemis’s throat as she does it.

“No that’s more to do with my aspect,” Artemis answers once she regains the ability to speak.

“Aspect?” Thalia questions and the other woman nods.

“All of the bloodlines have aspects, a thing that the matriarch can control and the others can use from time to time. Mine is the moon, I can change my aged appearance just like the moon changes phases.” Artemis’s voice is just as tired as her face and Thalia gets the impression she’s explained this hundreds of times.

“Okay, so moon lady, I’m assuming Hades has something similar?” She asks and Artemis sighs, Thalia doubts anyone has ever looked so tired and so effortlessly put together at the same time.

“Hades’s aspect is death, which makes him much more dangerous. We’re about matched in strength and I have the advantage of three thousand years of experience in this body, but he’s the literal ruler of death. I don’t want to risk it.”

“So you’re handing me over to the literal god of death?” Thalia deadpans. The realization that Reyna had both angered and fought this man lit up the back of her mind.

“I don’t have much choice. He took my lieutenant. Unlike myself, she doesn’t reincarnate if she dies and a rescue attempt is too risky with his power. As for what he wants with you, I can only guess it’s because you’re of Zeus’s bloodline.”

“Hang on-” Thalia rubs her temples and winces at the sensation of fingers on bruised skin. “You’re telling me, that I’m a part of this batshit crazy bloodline fuck?!”

“That’s not how I would put it, but yes.” Artemis looks mildly amused as Thalia swears colorfully. Turning her face blue from the string of words on her tongue.

“The last thing I fucking need is to be a part of another fucked up family!” Thalia finishes, gasping for breath and balling her fists. Artemis smirks.

“Welcome to the club, I don’t think I’ve had this kind of conversation in a long while,” she actually sounds relieved. Like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders and onto Thalia’s. Thalia wants to scream but doesn’t have the strength for it.

“Well lucky fucking you! I’m tired of this shit! I was done with my dad even before I got caught up in his family’s bullshit.”

“The current Zeus even worse of a father?” Artemis asks and Thalia raises an eyebrow.

“You could say that. He fucking tossed me on the street because his wife told him to.”

“Not as bad as what happened to me,” there’s a hidden smirk in Artemis’s face and Thalia stares at her.

“I thought that the original twelve were siblings?” Thalia questions. Artemis chuckles.

“God no, one was enough for me. The original born were Poseidon, Hera, Zeus, Demeter, Hades, and Hestia, though I haven’t heard anything about her line in a while.”

“Wait, but Hera and Zeus are married,” Thalia interjects and Artemis nods.

“They always are, Hera’s aspect is marriage, because she married him the first time she has to every time now.”

“Ew, gross.”

“Very. Any how, as Zeus always does, he was unfaithful and cheated on Hera with one of the old ones. After sending her on a wild goose chase and forcing her to be stuck in labor for months finally the old one gave birth and me and my brother Apollo were born. Apollo died approximately two days later and the cycles gone on ever since.” Artemis says that all like it’s normal while Thalia watches, horrified and confused.

“What?!” she yells and Artemis laughs.

“I’m kidding, she was only in labor for three days, but still. Human legend tends to forget that the ‘twelve’ is actually ‘thirteen’ and that we were born at separate times before branching off. However, with no one except my hunters and I actually being there, it’s easy to see why.”

“Wait, hang on,” Thalia massages her face to try and clear her brain. “Old ones?” she questions finally.

“Yes, the ones that came before the bloodlines, I’m afraid that not many of them are still around, if any.” Artemis’s face takes on that distant quality that Thalia’s seen only too often.

“How are the ‘bloodlines’ even possible. What makes your lines so special?” Thalia questions and Artemis sighs.

“Some questions I can’t answer. Not because I refuse to, but more that I don’t know the answers either.”

“You don’t know why you’re immortal?” Thalia questions and Artemis wipes her face with her sleeve. The golden liquid just smears across her brow and mixes with the soot.

“If I did I’d feel a lot better. My guess is that is has something to do with the old ones.”

“Well if that were the case why aren’t there more of you?” Thalia questions and Artemis shrugs. For a moment they simply stare at each other, Thalia has no idea what to do anymore. She’s a prisoner technically, but Artemis is treating her like a guest. Another member of her crew. Thalia vaguely remembers her first few days aboard Reyna’s ship and gets the feeling of déjà vu crawling up her spine.

Artemis is inspecting her again, looking at her like she’s a weapon rather than a person. It used to make her feel uncomfortable, but right now Thalia can’t help but look at the other woman much the same way. Delicate fingers, weathered palms, and scarred skin. Artemis looks just as human as she does, but Thalia doesn’t miss the golden blood dripping down her brow or the way her eyes glow with their own light. Thalia’s reminded of when another sailor had described her own eyes as ‘demonic’. She wonders if there was some truth in that.

Artemis furrows her brow and sighs. “I should let you rest, your body’s been through enough.” She begins to stand to leave, but Thalia shakes her head.

“Don’t, I’m plenty awake now, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. Besides you’re the one who looks about ready to crash.” With that Thalia begins to try and sit up. The pain in her back and head come back with a vengeance, but she manages to make it into a sitting position.

“What makes you think I even need sleep?” she questions, brows risen. Thalia rolls her eyes.

“You have circles under your eyes and your skin is two shades paler than it was five minutes ago. Sit down.” She commands. Thalia has absolutely no reason to order around a self-proclaimed goddess who technically is her captor, but the last thing she needs is another person getting themselves hurt because they pushed themselves too hard. God knows she’s watched Reyna do it too many times.

Despite the obvious power difference Artemis decides to humor her and sits back down on the edge of the bed. Thalia takes the sponge from the bucket, wrings it out, and begins wiping at Artemis’s forehead. Every movement makes her increasingly dizzy, but she’ll be damned if she lets Artemis know that. Eyebrows knit in concentration and hands clenched to prevent them from shaking, Thalia watches this three-thousand-year-old woman flinch every time she wipes at the cut on her face.

“So I take it this Aphrodite woman is another bloodline?” Thalia questions after a minute of silence. Artemis nods, wincing when Thalia grabs her face and turns it to look at the other side.

“Was, I’m afraid she’ll have to be reborn again soon, god knows where. She’s got bloodline relatives everywhere. That woman doesn’t know the meaning of the words ‘self-control,’” Artemis grumbles as Thalia works. Thalia catches the goddess’s eye and vaguely recognizes the question within them.

“I’m fine,” She growls in response and pokes the goddess a little too viciously to prove her point. “Alright, so you killed the current Aphrodite, I don’t suppose that might make her a little cranky next time you encounter her?”

“Please, the only reason she attacked us was because my lieutenant isn’t with us.” Artemis looks amused by Thalia’s actions.

“Lieutenant?” Thalia questions, Artemis sighs.

“I trust you’re familiar with Hades’s method of trying to capture you?”

“Unfortunately. You mentioned he took her before.” Thalia watches Artemis’s face harden.

“Yes. She’s one of the last old ones, for obvious reasons. Most matriarchs won't bother messing with her given her status, but Hades is clearly desperate.” Artemis’s brows draw together again and Thalia tilts her head, taking in her expression. She looks angry, but at the same time concern drawn deep in her face. Thalia knows it’s not there for Hades.

“So you and your ‘lieutenant’ are together I take it?” she questions and Artemis splutters. Flustering a three-thousand-year-old woman is a lot easier than one might think. Thalia actually laughs, the first time since she got on the ship.

“I… I do not partake in such activities-” Artemis says finally. Instead of blushing pink, she turns gold in the cheeks. Thalia laughs harder.

“What are you, twelve?! Look, you don’t call ‘close friends’ lieutenant affectionately, and then go and stare into the middle distance. Also, give you keep calling her an ‘old one’ I’m gonna guess you’ve known each other for a while. Don’t tell me you aren’t at least interested in her.” thalia has set down the sponge at this point and just watches as Artemis fumes silently. The golden color in her cheeks doesn’t fade.

“I… That is not your concern.” She decides finally, the color in her cheeks begins to fade and Thalia simply shrugs.

“Well considering I’m technically your prisoner and I literally can’t walk right now, I don’t have anything better to do,” she reminds Artemis. Artemis gives her a glare and Thalia simply holds her hands up in surrender.

“You are… very similar to my brother,” Artemis mutters finally and Thalia raises her brows.

“Given your expression that’s probably not a good thing. Also, the three-thousand-year-old goddess has a brother?”

“He was my brother when I was born, but I guess now he’s technically my great-something-nephew. It’s too complicated, just go with brother. And yes, it’s not a good thing, he’s quite annoying.” Artemis’s face is pulled into an expression of distaste, but Thalia can see the affection hiding in the lines around her eyes.

“I’m told so,” Thalia says, placing a hand on her chest in mock gratitude. Artemis rolls her eyes and stands once more. Without the dirt and blood covering her face the pale color, she turns from the strain is more apparent. “You really should rest.” Artemis rolls her eyes.

“You don’t need to worry after me, Thalia Grace. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I have for three-thousand-years.” Artemis tells her, but Thalia knows it’s a lie.

“I think your ‘lieutenant’ might say otherwise.” Artemis’s shoulders sag and she sighs heavily.

“She isn’t here.”


	7. Mother In All But Name

Jason wasn’t sure how exactly he expected a pirate meeting to look, but it wasn’t like this. Twenty-something people crammed into a small medical tent around their captain who was nursing an apparently recently lost leg and glaring at Jason like he’d just announced the apocalypse had been far from even his wildest fantasies.   
  
“So…” he mutters awkwardly as the captain continues glaring him down. Beside him Rachel fidgets restlessly, he swears sometimes she’s even more hyper than his cousin.   
  
“Mr. Grace.” Reyna answers. Her tone is flat, dead, falling in his lap with more weight than anything he’s ever experienced in his life. He swallows, hard.   
  
“Look, I’ll reiterate myself, we don’t want any more trouble than you do, I simply wish to find my sister.” He hopes that it’s a reassuring statement, something to let the captain know he’s on her side. Reyna’s dark eyes simply narrow at him. Next to her sits a much smaller girl whom he’d briefly heard her address as Lou. Lou doesn’t even spare him a glance as she looks over Reyna’s leg, fussing about her straining herself while Reyna simply listens with only one ear. The almost relaxed atmosphere Lou’s giving off is more unsettling than Reyna’s glare.   
  
“It’s never ‘just’, Grace.” Reyna goes to stand, but Lou simply grabs her by the base of her coat and Reyna scowls further. Lou continues with her dressing undeterred. Instead Reyna settles on leaning forwards to glare closer to Jason’s face. “I know your kind. You come into my camp, or onto my ship and you take everything I’ve tried so very hard to build. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to see your sister. You want to take her back to your country as a prize. To parade her around your castles until she’s been married off to some foreign dignitary and you never have to worry about her again.”   
  
Jason blinks at her, he’s never been more confused in his life. “Ma’am I’d like to calmly ask, what?”   
  
“Bullshit,” Reyna growls back, leaning back and disturbing Lou who makes a small grunt of annoyance. “Bull fucking shit. I’ve had enough of people kidnapping Thalia, and you can’t even prove to me you’re her brother, can you?”   
  
“Tired of? You mean this has happened before?!” Jason exclaims and Reyna’s glare sours.   
  
“I said, prove to me that you’re her brother. If you can.” Reyna’s hot glare reminds Jason of hot oil. He glances at Rachel for guidance, but her eyes are trained on something only she can see. She’s staring directly at one of the men from the welcoming party. Percy, he’d introduced himself.   
  
“I… I’m Jason Grace, crown prince of Britain and heir to my father’s throne. Eldest male born of Zeus-”   
  
“I didn’t ask for your life story,” Reyna’s patience is clearly wearing thin, and as does her guards. Around them, all of the pirates fidget uneasily. Some reaching to handle swords or other weapons at their belts. Jason notes that only two of them have muskets. “Prove to me that you’re related to thalia. Tell me something only she would know.” Jason wants to scream. He doesn’t know, he’ll never know. He didn’t actually know Thalia. He gives the captain a look of desperation, but he sees it in her eyes.   
  
She’s not asking him to tell her any of Thalia’s secrets. She’s asking for one of his, something only his older sister would know. Or possibly tell her. Jason briefly brings a finger to his face.   
  
“I tried to eat a pair of scissors when I was a baby,” he blurts. Around him, both his own officials and pirates give him strange looks. Rachel appears to be holding back laughter. However, Reyna’s face has gone deadly serious, her shoulders slump under a weight only she can see and she looks so much older.   
  
“She always loved that story. Said she’d never let you forget about it when she found you again,” Reyna’s voice carries a certain sadness that Jason’s familiar with in grieving people. Officer Octavian when he lost his first mate Dakota.   
  
“So you believe me now?” Jason asks, pleading and Reyna sighs.   
  
“I doubt many other people know that their crown prince is a dumb baby. Pardon me, was,” Reyna’s lips curl upwards in the barest beginnings of a smile. All around her her shipmates howl with laughter, Rachel tenses beside him, but Jason relaxes. Finally, he’s gotten at least partway through the shell.   
  
“So who took my sister?” He doesn’t let Rachel get a word of her reprimand get through before he can get information out. She just sends him a glare in response.   
  
“The Hunters,” another girl spoke and Jason glances over to meet the steel gray eyes of a new addition to the mass in the tent. Percy moves to intercept her, but Reyna simply nods in her direction.   
  
“Yes. Them.” Reyna’s words are as bitter as they were before, but no longer are they directed at him. “Though, at this point, I doubt they were acting alone. What would the Hunters have to gain by kidnapping her?”   
  
“Well why would they kidnap her for anyone else?” the blonde asked and Reyna knit her eyebrows. “The hunters don’t have many friends, except the Amazons and that’s only every two decades.”   
  
“And the Amazons wouldn’t have much of a motivation either.” A third speaker, this one tall and dark haired. It takes Jason a moment to recognize his features for Asian. He’s never actually met one in the flesh. “They hate men just as much as the Hunters. Neither have many friends.”   
  
“Unless they weren’t working with friends,” Reyna commands the conversation once more, her voice rising over any side one that might’ve begun during the distraction. “Unless they were working against a ransom.”   
  
“A ransom? For Thalia?” Jason questions, but is largely ignored as another one of the boys from the landing party speaks. Nico, Jason remembers vaguely.   
  
“Hades,” he states simply and the other pirates all nod grimly as they recognize the name. Reyna sucks in a breathe.   
  
“W-William. Anything you’d like to add?” The blonde that never seems to leave Nico’s side shrinks slightly. Jason didn’t miss the way Reyna’s voice shook on his name. He wonders what the story is there.   
  
“I don’t know, we barely escaped-”   
  
“But you did. You’re the only person we know who both made it in and out of Hades lair alive without being bargained with. You’re the only source of information we have on it and it’s contents.” Reyna’s voice is sharp and unlike with the rest of her crew she directs her statement specifically at him. Her dark eyes are like daggers, slicing into the blonde’s face. He swallows, wringing out his hands.   
  
“Yes. Captain.” He murmurs and Reyna’s gaze doesn’t waver from his for a solid five seconds. He holds it. Jason can feel the tension in the air.   
  
“I want you on my task team.” She says finally and there’s a collective groan from the surrounding Pirates. Jason blinks.   
  
“Task team?” he questions, and Reyna seems to remember he’s there.   
  
“Well we’re going to get her back, are we not?” she asks. Jason cocks his head. “The only reason we haven’t left yet is we need to make repairs to Festus.”   
“Festus?” he asks, the final boy from the welcome party grins. He looks something like an elf, pointed ears, and upturned nose.   
  
“Our beauty out there!” he points to indicate the ship currently beached with a gaping hole in the front.   
  
“Oh.” He murmurs. Finally, Rachel seems to find her voice again.   
  
“We did not agree to any pirates coming on our ship!” Reyna’s eyebrows raise at her outburst, and for a moment Jason fears she’ll get angry again.   
  
“I wasn’t asking, Red.” The atmosphere turns cold and Jason gulps. “Either you’ll help us find Thalia, or we’ll take your ship and leave you all here while we skip. It’s your choice.”   
  
“I think we’ll be complying, right Rachel.” Jason’s teeth physically hurt from pressing together so hard. Rachel doesn’t look happy about it, but she doesn’t make a scene.   
  
“My name is Rachel.” She whispers. Reyna doesn’t seem to hear.   
  
“Good, now Rebecca, would you be a dear and exit the tent with the rest of my crew? Me and Princey boy have things to discuss.”   
  
~~   
  
Reyna knew it from the moment she saw him. This had to be Thalia’s estranged brother. It wasn’t because of a resemblance, nor from a similar personality or posture or way of carrying oneself. In those respects they couldn’t be more different. Thalia was unrestrained and out there while Jason was every bit the storybook prince.   
  
No, that’s not how Reyna knew. But she did. Because of his eyes. The same blue eyes that flashed with their own storm. She recognized them the moment she saw him and immediately knew what she’d be dealing with. The young man sitting in front of her reminded her greatly of the Thalia she’d met on a British boat almost 8 years ago. He obviously attempted to keep up a mask of indifference, but he was easy to read. He was terrified, and rightfully so she supposed. She was in fact the captain of a pirate crew, however small as it was, and he was a sheltered prince. She wouldn’t be surprised if this was his first outing.   
  
The remains of Reyna’s crew creep out of the tent, taking the British prince’s advisors with him, including the brash red head. She doesn’t particularly know why, but the woman just rubs her the wrong way, in several ways.   
  
Jason watches her still looking moderately frightened. Reyna simply waits in silence for the entire tent to exit before shifting, finally glad to be free of Lou. Her leg gets sore if she keeps it in the same position for too long.   
  
“Alright Grace, I’ll tell you how this is gonna go, and you’re gonna listen because I don’t care who you’re related to. If you hurt a single one of my crew members or even think about crossing us I’ll pop your head off faster than you can go crying back to papa. Is that clear?” Reyna’s almost positive thats the exact same tone of voice she used with hades a few years ago. Guilt that still lay under her heart burned, she ignored it. Things were different now. She was a different person.   
  
Jason’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, but he nodded with vigor. The poor kid couldn’t be any older than fifteen, but Reyna reminded herself she’d been around the same age when she’d taken over the pirate crew.   
  
“I-I promise you no harm will come to you or whatever crew members you decide to take with you on my ship. I only ask if I may, where would we be heading?” He fidgeted restlessly with the ends of his cuffs, almost as badly as Leo.   
  
“Hades’s island. It’s about a month travel from here, longer if we run into another storm,” Reyna swallows thickly. God knows what Hades could do with, or even want to do with, Thalia during that time. She only prayed that the hunters were caught in the same storm that had wrecked their ship or at least been damaged enough to slow down.   
  
“You mentioned him before, who is he?” Jason’s voice is tentative, but there’s genuine curiosity written on his face. Reyna knits her brows.   
  
“Hades. Also known as Deadman’s King. His crew is renown throughout the world.” Reyna states flatly. Jason gulps slightly.   
  
“What would he want to do with my sister?!” Jason nearly shoots out of his chair, sitting upright and leaning on his toes. Reyna raises a hand to placate him.   
  
“I don’t know. He’s been trying to capture her for at least four years now though,” Reyna stands before Jason can. She knows his type, he may not realize it but he’s used to being in charge and she needs to establish that she’s the one in control. Preferably without any of his little advisors walking around. Reyna grabs her crutch and moves to one of the tables that had been dragged out of the boat. She moves some of the assorted papers and weapons about until she finds what she’s looking for. Hylla’s dagger glitters in the sunlight streaming through the tent flap turning the polished metal to gold.   
  
Jason’s eyes widen in recognition. So at least he hasn’t been entirely sheltered.   
  
“That’s an Amazon knife,” He murmurs and Reyna nods, returning to her spot on the cot, clutching Hylla’s dagger.   
  
“It was my sister’s as well. She won it off the Amazon captain, Otrea.” Reyna watches as Jason knits his brows, appearing to be trying to connect what she’s saying to the relevance of their predicament.   
  
“Hylla?” He questions and Reyna raises her own brow as Jason splutters to try and explain himself. “Your sister, I read in reports that the captain of your crew was Hylla Ramirez-Arellano.”   
  
“Was,” Reyna murmurs and sighs heavily. She remembers her fever dream, or at least what she hopes was one, Hylla’s dark eyes brimming with even more secrets than she had when she was alive. “She died four years ago, killed by a Spanish soldier. Anyhow, this was my sister’s knife, but now it belongs to your sister.” Reyna holds the dagger so that her fingers run against the blade, letting the smooth metal calm her somewhat.   
  
“What does this have to do with Hades?” Jason asks finally and she’s reminded of Thalia’s impatience. It’s almost comical.   
  
“Patience, I’m getting to that,” Reyna murmurs, struggling to restrain a smile. “When hades initially went looking for Thalia he sent me after her. I’d given her this knife on a previous occasion. He sent me after her and told me that she used this knife to kill hundreds of pirates. Obviously he was lying and was attempting to make me mad enough to bring her in without questioning it. Fortunately, I did and was stopped before it was too late, but I still came close. The blade is still used in his tactics and we’ve fought several battles over the years with crew chasing after a girl with blue eyes who fights with an amazonian blade.”   
  
“So he knows that you carry it,” Jason murmurs and Reyna nods.   
  
“He also knows that it belonged to my sister. Somehow he’s collected my secrets.” Reyna watches as Jason’s eyebrows draw together in a scowl.   
  
“Surely he saw her fight with it?”   
  
“I didn’t even know that he knew her until I found out he knew the blade.” Jason hums and rubs his temples, looking every inch the government leader he was fated to be. Part of Reyna found that minorly disturbing.   
  
“A spy perhaps?” He questions and Reyna laughs.   
  
“Things may be different on land, but getting any sort of message off of a ship in the middle of the ocean without being spotted is quite difficult.” Reyna shifts in her seat, setting her crutch back against one of the tables.   
  
“Fair enough, but how else would he know that?” Jason asks and Reyna shrugs.   
  
“I have no idea, but if we’re going to be traveling towards him I thought it best to warn you.” Reyna runs a hand back through her hair as Jason sighs, calming his nerves.   
  
“So, how many of you are coming?”   
  
~~   
  
Thalia hates sleeping for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the strain of getting back up when the allotted amount of time for sleep is over. Or, in other words, waking up. Thalia groans loudly as something very loud comes barging into the room. In protest she yanks the pillow over her head and ignores the stinging sensation her head wound makes against Artemis’s cotton sheets. The loud someone laughs at her response and begins tugging at the pillow. Thalia growls and tightens her grip.   
  
“‘ight, c’mon grumpy. You’re going to get sick if we don’t get ye up and moving.” Thalia vaguely recognizes the voice, but she doesn’t remember the name.   
  
“Fuck off,” She snarls in retaliation and buries herself beneath the covers. The other person snorts and yanks the blankets away. Thalia squawks and goes tumbling off the bed, leaving the other woman to cackle from her position. Slowly, with more effort than Thalia would’ve liked, she sits up and forces her eyes open to glare at her.   
  
Thalia takes a moment to remember the girl’s name, but apparently, Phoebe didn’t forget hers as the scot immediately starts talking a mile a minute.   
  
“Bloody ‘ell, Thalia. What the ‘ell you been drinking?” she wheezes and Thalia growls faintly.   
  
“Your captain’s fucking light rays, now leave me alone.” She doesn’t bother trying to climb back into the bed, instead, taking the fallen blanket and wrapping around herself. Phoebe laughs again, an awkward bubbling noise that grates on Thalia’s ears.   
  
“Not so fast girly,” Phoebe murmurs and tugs the blanket free once more, leaving Thalia shivering and glaring back up at her. “Artemis specifically ordered me to get ye up an’ runin’.”   
  
“Tell her to fuck off,” Thalia grumbled and tried to pull the blanket back. Phoebe rolls her eyes and simply throws the blanket to the other side of the room.   
  
“Up. Now.” She orders and Thalia makes one last groan of frustration and pulls herself to her feet. Her visions washes black for a solid three seconds and almost causes her to fall over, but Phoebe catches her while Thalia tries to find her footing once more. “Are you usually this prone to concussions?”   
  
“Are you normally this annoying?” Thalia’s not in the mood for humoring the strange Scott who apparently was 2 thousand years old. Thalia still needed to ask Artemis about how exactly that worked.   
  
“Touche,” Phoebe murmurs and begins to let Thalia go. Thalia grabs onto the nearest bed post, finding the one she’d pried loose for a weapon before has been put back in place. “But seriously, you might’ve earned ‘er respect, but ‘at doesn’t mean you get’a question ‘er.”   
  
“How the hell would I have earned her respect, I didn’t do anything except curse at her and clean her damn face,” Thalia glares back at Phoebe and without the interference of monstrous women trying to murder them, Thalia struck with the fact that Phoebe was incredibly short. Like, really short. At the very most the woman probably wasn’t even five feet. Phoebe rose an eyebrow at her.   
  
“Ye did what?” she questions and Thalia simply waves her hand dismissively.   
  
“Nevermind, how did I earn her respect?’ she clarifies and Phoebe frowns.   
  
“You survived a full blast of her divine form. Only one person has done that before and that was Zoë.” Phoebe walks towards the door, turning and looking at Thalia expectantly as if waiting for her to follow.   
  
“Zoë?” Thalia questions and Phoebe’s expression turns sad.   
  
“Artemis’s lieutenant.” With that Phoebe exits the room and leaves Thalia to follow.   
  
“Zoë seems like a bit of a modern name for a thousands of years old woman,” Thalia mutters to herself before following. Her vision sways unhelpfully and her head sends sharp pains into her skull, but for the most part she’s fine. Better than she was when she was fighting Aphrodite’s creatures. She’s still not entirely sure if she believes that actually happens. Phoebe is waiting for her beside the stairs and as Thalia emerges she begins down, leading Thalia into what could be described as a mess hall. Tables lined with both food and dozens of teenaged to young adult women, all of which seem to have the energy of someone who had downed four pints of coffee. Some of the youngest ones were hyper enough to put Leo to shame. However when someone them spotted her the entire room went silent almost immediately.   
  
Thalia’s throat closes up and Phoebe herself looks a little uncomfortable, but instead of shrinking under the group’s gaze she places her hand on Thalia’s shoulder and begins shoving her towards the table at the head of the room. Sitting there is a group of maybe five hunters, all of which seem to radiate a sense of age despite their youthful appearances. Even if Thalia didn’t know that a lot of these girls were thousands of years old she would’ve pegged these as the oldest. However, one seat is empty, the one right beside Artemis herself. Zoë, Thalia remembers.   
  
The table’s occupants are all giving Thalia an expectant look, like they expect her to suddenly sprout a tail or something. Instead they just stand there in weighted silence while Artemis seems to be deep in thought. Thalia’s reminded of their conversation the night before and feels mildly concerned, which isn’t usually something you feel for someone who kidnaps you, then again, Reyna had kidnapped her too once upon a time. Thalia wonders vaguely if she has Stockholm syndrome.   
  
“Miss Grace,” Artemis says finally and Thalia gulps. “Sit.” She waves to the seat at her side, and some of the other table’s occupants look surprised if not a bit startled. Phoebe’s eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn’t dare question Artemis and instead releases Thalia’s arm.   
  
Slowly, Thalia makes her way to the seat, feeling dozens of gazes burn into her spine.   
  
“Do you know why you’re here?” Artemis asks once Thalia is seated.   
  
“On the ship or in this room?” she shoots back and ignores her grumbling stomach. She technically hasn’t eaten in a few days at the least. The scent of whatever is into assorted plates and bowls is heavenly.   
  
“Thalia.” Artemis reprimands her, and Thalia’s gaze snaps back towards the goddess, realizing she had begun to space out.   
  
“Sorry. And not really,” Thalia glances at the table’s occupants taking in each of the young women’s faces. The youngest looks around ten and the oldest is barely fifteen. She feels old.   
  
“We’ve decided,” a girl on the other side of Artemis speaks, her hair is blonde and her skin fair, she looks a little bit like what Thalia imagines rapunzel would’ve. “To give you honorary hunter status.”   
  
Thalia blinks and gives Artemis an incredulous look. “What?”   
  
“You survived something only one person has survived before, and as that person is my dearest friend, also our conversation from earlier I have made the decision to trust you,” Artemis’s expression darkens and Thalia shrinks in her seat. “Don’t make me regret that decision.”   
  
“Yes ma’am,” Thalia whispers and Artemis flashes her that same wicked smile she’d worn the night she’d kidnapped her. She was reminded of why she’d feared the hunters in the first place. With that revelation, Artemis stands and all strings of whispers in the mess hall die out suddenly, hunters all turning their attention to their goddess.   
  
“Huntresses, let us welcome our new sister to the hunt, may the stars light your path Thalia Grace,” Artemis calls out and all of the hall erupts in a chant of her last words.   
  
“May the stars light your path!” Thalia catches several glares directed at her and even more threatening gestures. She hopes that the fact that she’s technically a bargaining chip will be enough to keep her from being murdered.   
  
~   
  
As it turns out becoming an honorary hunter is a lot less glamorous than it sounds. In addition to being moved out of Artemis’s bedroom and into the barracks with other teenaged girls, most of whom seem to have taken a disliking to her, she’s also assigned literally any and every little chore that the older hunters don’t want to do. So far she’d mopped the deck twice, done half of her new roommates’ laundry, been on water duty during sparring, and had to clean the latrines. In other news, Thalia was vividly reliving her first week aboard Reyna’s ship in which she’d done much of the same tasks, but instead of a bunch of hostile women at least a few decades older than Thalia would ever be, she’d had an extremely cynical Pirate princess watching her every move.   
  
On the bright side, some of the other girls from Artemis’s table had warmed up to her. There was Cynthia, who apparently next to the ‘mysterious’ Zoë was the oldest hunter, followed by Diane and then the bold and proud Charlotte. All three of the women had essentially took one look at Thalia and decided that she was what they would call ‘baby hunter’. It wasn’t that Thalia was ungrateful for people who didn’t want to kill her, it’s just that having three women, all of which are younger than you physically call you ‘baby hunter’ was grating on her nerves.   
  
Then there was, of course, Artemis herself, who seemed to want to pop in every hour or two to make sure that she was ‘adjusting properly’. Thalia was majorly confused as to one thing, but Artemis always disappeared before she could ask the question, and Thalia got the feeling that she knew what she was going to ask and didn’t want to share the question.   
  
Thalia went to bed that night more exhausted than she had been in years and sore in places she didn’t know she had. Then, of course, she had to pretend she didn’t feel the eyes of literally every other girl in the cabin on her. She didn’t get much sleep.   
  
The next day was much the same, periodic check-ins from Artemis who avoided questions, more check-ins from the three older hunters, and more endless chores. Thalia went to bed more exhausted and again slept little. The cycle continued. Eventually, the periodic visits from Artemis began to get less frequent and Thalia began to feel the affects of not sleeping.   
  
However, the extended time did little to help with the other hunters’ opinion on her. In fact, their attitudes seemed to get worse as Artemis checked in less. The goddess didn’t check on her for a full day at some point and Thalia spent the entire night sitting on her bed and staring into the darkness because she’d heard some of the hunters talking about what they’d do if she wasn’t so essential to getting Zoë back.   
  
That was another thing. During that week Thalia couldn’t go two seconds without hearing the name Zoë. It was like a curse. Zoë was some sort of incantation to warding off evil spirits and Thalia apparently was one of them. Everyone compared her to the other woman who she’d yet to hear a solid story about. Even Phoebe seemed to be avoiding her thanks to it.   
  
It was always ‘Zoë didn’t do that,” or “Zoë was better at sparring,” or “Zoë would’ve stopped that.” Thalia hated it, she hated every second of it. Zoë this, Zoë that, Zoë Zoë Zoë. She wasn’t fucking Zoë! No one seemed to be able to get that through their heads. Cynthia once had accidentally called her Zoë during a training exercise and the entire group of hunters had glared at Thalia like she’d personally murdered their entire families. Cynthia had of course apologised later, like the over protective mother she is, but Thalia didn’t forget about it.   
  
Zoë’s name began to burn in her ears, it stung across her cheeks and felt like acid on her tongue. She wasn’t Zoë, and the constant comparison was beginning to burn. Finally, she has enough.   
  
“Stop, what are you doing?” one of the older hunter barks at Thalia as she spars with Diane. Thalia glances up at her and the name Fleur comes to mind.   
  
“Sparring?” Thalia questions while Diane smirks at Fleur.   
  
“Relax Fleur, it’s just some fun,” she mutters, propping her sword up against her hip and wiping sweat from her eyes. The hunters had proven to be excellent swordsmen. Some of them, like Diane, had had centuries to perfect their art so it came as no surprise.   
  
“Your form is all wrong,” Fleur grumbles at Thalia who shrugs.   
  
“Show me then,” she murmurs and steps back to let her spar with Diane who grins at the prospect of a new opponent. Diane was competitive by nature. She said it had something to do with one of the ‘bloodlines’ but Thalia thought it was too complicated to try and make sense of it all. Fleur, however, seems to dislike Thalia’s choice of words. Her face darkens and she gives Thalia a glare that could boil blood. Thalia swallows thickly.   
  
“Are you so prideful you think that your form is better than mine?” she questions and Thalia raises her hands in surrender.   
  
“I didn’t say anything like that. Look, I just want to see your fighting style, if you want you can spar me,” she suggests and misses Diane wildly waving for her to stop talking, but Fleur’s face lights up, an expression of contempt that could kill a man. Thalia gulps.   
  
“If you insist,” she murmurs and a sword literally materializes out of thin air. Thalia scarcely has a second of warning before she comes swinging at her. Needless to say, it’s hardly Thalia’s best sparring match. She takes a rapier to the left wrist within the first two seconds, leaving her to fight with her non dominant hand for the rest of the match. Fleur fights like a viper, coiling up her strength and waiting for the proper moment before delivering stabs of speed so fast that Thalia can’t even see them.   
  
She loses, badly. She falls backwards will blood in her throat and nose and is reminded of Reyna’s last fight with her. She nearly vomits at that memory, it’s not something she likes to remember. Apparently Fleur has the same impulse control as the angry captain had, but without the lucky weakness of actually liking Thalia. She has to be pulled away screaming by both Diane and Cynthia while Charlotte ran to get a medic. Artemis came thundering out and the whole thing simply turned into a chaotic mess of yelling and bandages.   
  
Thalia hardly remembers it all if she’s honest. What she does know it that now she’s sitting in Artemis’s cabin once more while Artemis pays back her favor of washing her wounds.   
  
“You need to be less reckless,” the goddess mutters finally after nearly forty minutes of silence. Thalia glares back at the goddess.   
  
“Me, reckless? All I did was tell a girl that she could spar me and she tried to kill me. I don’t call that reckless.” Thalia growls back. Artemis looks younger today, which she had learned from Cynthia usually means she’s in a good mood. However, thalia watches as Artemis’s form flickers and turns older before her eyes. It isn’t quite as jarring as it once was. She sighs in defeat.   
  
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she mutters and leans back on her ankles. Thalia raises a brow questioningly and Artemis places down her sponge. “By now you’re probably wondering why I made you an honorary hunter while we’re attempting to use you as ransom-”   
  
“The thought had occurred,” Thalia grumbles dryly. Artemis glares at Thalia and she quiets down.   
  
“The reason is complicated, but I’ll attempt to explain to the best of my ability,” Artemis stands and moves back to sit on the arm chair facing the bed that Thalia’s currently seated on for the third time. Thalia wonders if injured hunters just visit Artemis’s bed often, or if she’s getting special treatment for technically being a high-profile prisoner.   
  
“My lieutenant is missing, as you’ve clearly noticed,” Thalia notes that Artemis never uses Zoë’s name and is reminded of their conversation a week earlier. “And with that comes a large hole in how things normally work on this ship. My hopes were that your similarity to her would allow the hunters to adjust to her absence better, however, it seems that they have just decided to use you as a scapegoat.”   
  
“So you were using me as a human placeholder while your lover is gone so you don’t have to face the reality that you’ve basically become the surrogate mother of thirty-something teenaged girls.” Thalia drawls and Artemis’s face is again somewhere between incredulous and flustered.   
  
“I keep forgetting how similar you are to my brother,” Artemis mutters and thalia rolls her eyes.   
  
“Look, Artemis, you’re going to have to face the music sooner or later. You clearly had a thing with your Lieutenant and your hunters saw that whether they know that or just do subconsciously. Because of that you two basically became the parental unit to thirty-something immortal children and because of the position you put me in, they see me as essentially replacing their mother.” Thalia doesn’t have the time nor the patience to deal with Artemis’s denial of both affection for her lieutenant and clear maternal instincts. Artemis’s expression remains in it’s strange expression before she simply places her hand in her hands and rubs her temples.   
  
“You do realize I could literally kill you by breathing too hard, right?” she asks and Thalia shrugs.   
  
“You already killed me once, I’m not exactly scared of it anymore.” Thalia sighs and leans back on the bed, wincing when some of her bandages touch the sheets.   
  
“You are the most insolent, reckless, imperative-”   
  
“Don’t forget childish, foolish, crazy, suicidal, psychopath.” Thalia finishes for her and glances at Artemis’s golden face. “This isn’t my first rodeo Captain.”   
  
“Sometimes I wonder how long you would have stayed alive on this ship if we didn’t need you to bargain for-” Artemis cuts herself off and Thalia just watches her. They sit in silence as Artemis reflects on her mistake. Finally, thalia loses her patience.   
  
“Who was Zoë?” Artemis stiffens at the name, but Thalia doesn’t apologize for asking. Slowly, Artemis sighs and releases the tension in her shoulders.   
  
“She wa-is,” Artemis corrects herself, “She is reckless, proud, overestimates herself and her hunters’ abilities, amazing marksmen, and the best fighter I’ve ever met in my life.” she gets this dreamy expression that Thalia remembers reading about back in England. The one someone supposedly makes when they fall in love, it almost makes Thalia want to vomit. “And she was the most fiercely loyal person I ever met. She would disregard every order I ever issued if I or one of her hunters was injured.”   
  
“You keep calling them her hunters,” Thalia mutters softly and Artemis cracks one of the saddest smiles thalia’s ever seen.   
  
“They were hers.” Artemis’s voice took on a tender quality that made it seem so much softer than the commanding voice Thalia was used to, “Never were the hunters truly mine. Sure, I provide the magic that keeps them all alive, but she’s the one that always took care of them. I merely directed them, she took care of all of the personal things and was the true mother of them. I believe that’s the term you used?”   
  
“Sounds like she was great,” Thalia murmurs. How the hell was she supposed to live up to that?   
  
“She is.”   



	8. An Oracle

Her name is Artemis. She has sun kissed skin and eyes brighter than the moon would ever even dream of being. Her hair flows in a flame from her head, burning up the silver night in its brilliance and drawing her in. Her face is dotted with freckles and pinched in an eternal youth that she'll forever be jealous of. Artemis's flawless beauty does not fit with her. It'll never fit with her.

 

For she is Zoë. She's dark skin and soft curves and warm tones and she'll never compare of Artemis's sharpness. Her dagger-like eyes and the smile of a blade. She'll never be able to compete with the jawline or the nose that could kill a man, and has before. For she is Zoë. And Zoë is the day to Artemis's deafening night. Where Artemis is cold and wild and vibrant like the full moon, Zoë is warm. She's constant and unchanging and perhaps a little easier to ignore, but just as captivating. Zoë is Artemis's day, and Artemis worships the ground she walks on.

 

Sometimes Zoë will tease Artemis for it. Laughing at how the self-proclaimed 'goddess' acts around what she calls 'a mortal'. However, Artemis has never been able to see Zoë as that. For as long as she can remember Zoë has been at her side and never can she imagine a time outside of that. A time where the comforting scent of nutmeg and citrus was missing. A time when the gentle warmth of a body that Artemis would never be so forward as to touch, but has entertained the thought far too many times, was not there. A time when she didn't meet eyes like charcoal. A time when Zoë was missing, for what was the moon without her stars?

 

~~

 

The moon is cold, is lost, is lonely. Without her stars, the moon wanders endlessly, fruitlessly searching for someone who she can not find. She searches, searches, and searches until there's nowhere left to look. For the moon without her stars is a lonely wanderer. The stars without their moon is as good as dead.

 

Then, the storm comes, and the clouds roll in, war rests on the horizon. Storm cries and War begs for mercy as Death weeps for those he has lost. Life remains dead, she's been so for a long, long time, and the sun sinks deeper behind the horizon.

 

Beauty weeps, and the Ocean looks at Wisdom for forgiveness. Wisdom does not forgive, nor forget. A king bows and the moon mourns for those she cannot save.

 

Rachel wakes.

 

~~

 

When Jason agreed to take a few pirates on his ship as passengers he wasn't sure what he'd expected. He found that with pirates it's impossible to expect anything as they always seem to do the complete opposite of that. Certainly, he didn't expect the esteemed "Captain Ramirez-Arellano's task team" to be a moody teenager, a blonde fountain of sarcasm, scary blonde lady, the literal human embodiment of a puppy, and a living witch.

 

Of course, that's what he's greeted with. He vaguely remembers the shorter dark-haired boy as "Nico" and his blonde companion as "William", but the rest of Reyna's accomplices are mysteries. He vaguely catches the witch and human puppy hugging the boy introduced as "Leo" goodbye.

 

"Okay, well I had the sailors vacate a cabin for you, but I don't know if it'll be enough room for-" Jason starts, wondering if the pirates will be okay with sleeping in the same room, but one of them, the scary blonde lady, waves him off.

 

  
"Relax, Princey. We've been sleeping in sandbanks for the past two weeks, a cot is a lifesaver right now." the other pirates seem to agree and eagerly follow the blonde to check out their new barracks. Reyna, of course, is the last to board, sporting a peg leg that she seems uncomfortable with and not quite used to, but she'd refused any help that Jason had offered.

 

She limps across the deck to stand next to him, resting her arm on his shoulder for support. He's sure that this is the first time he's spoken to someone tall enough to do so. He's a little intimidated, to be honest.

 

"You're the same height as your sister," Reyna murmurs it like it's something she isn't even fully aware of, but the way she knits her brows tells him that she's having a hard time with the thought.

 

"You can tell that because of using me as an armrest?" he questions and a faint smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. It's the most he's gotten out of her yet.

 

"Obviously. It's the same distance to Thalia's shoulder, though she's less british pudding and more muscle."

 

"Did you just call me fat?"

 

"I called you British pudding, can't you hear?" Reyna's face pulls into a smirk and Jason glowers at her.

 

"Finish loading your supplies, I'd like to get moving as soon as possible." Jason murmurs and turns to leave, but is interrupted as a clearly frazzled Rachel comes flying at him.

 

"Jason!" She shouts and tackles him before he has a chance to process anything and they end up on the deck. Jason stares up, glasses askew, at Reyna who looks greatly amused at him.

 

"Look British pudding, you'll have to be more aware than that if you want to survive an encounter with the Hunters." Reyna looks smug, and Jason hates it. Jason glares before carefully pushing Rachel off of him.

 

"Rachel, what is so important you had to tackle me?" he growls and Rachel pulls her mane of curls out of her face. She glares at Jason hotly, her emerald eyes seem to stare directly into his soul.

 

"I had another dream," she hisses her words so quietly that only Jason will hear them, and almost immediately he reaches up to grab Rachel's arm. He checks her pulse, only to find it through the roof, he stands, dragging her up with him.

 

"My office, now." he barks to Reyna, who looks majorly confused, and begins marching Rachel in the direction of it.

 

"Wha-" Reyna begins but Jason shakes his head.

"We can't talk out here." He takes the stairs two at a time, Rachel has trouble keeping up in her current state, but he knows better than to carry her, given last time she nearly strangled him. Once they reach the cabin Jason immediately dumps Rachel onto his bed and begins searching through stacks of assorted paperwork and littered cups for his notepad while Rachel trembles violently on the bed. Reyna appears a second later, looking a little winded and minorly upset, rubbing the spot where her leg connected with the wooden peg.

 

"What the hell was tha-" she begins, but Jason has found his notepad.

 

"Close the door," he orders and turns back to Rachel who's begun to space out. "Rachel. Focus." Reyna closes the door, casting questioning looks between the two of them.

 

"I-I can't I don't..." Rachel shakes her head wildly and Jason grabs her hands, placing the notepad and quill, freshly dipped in ink, in her hands.

 

"Focus. What did you see?" Jason's voice is much too calm, he knows what this means, especially at the start of a voyage like this, but he also knows Rachel has to say it. She's never been wrong before.

 

"Moon's loss leads to storm's death,

 

War mourns as Life takes her first breath.

 

Stars will not be the first to die,

 

Death is a victim of Sun's lie.

 

The king loses a dear friend,

 

But they will save what matters most in the end."

 

Rachel lurches forwards, hand dragging across the page in one, fluid moment, one Jason is far too familiar with.

 

"Jupiter." He whispers the word like an incantation and Rachel slumps forwards, nearly falling off the bed.

 

"What the actual living hell?!" Reyna roars from her perch beside the door and Jason simply throws her a glare as he struggles to get Rachel upright.

 

"Put the notebook back on the table, and I'll explain in a moment. Now cool it," he orders and is met with eyes like hot oil.

 

"No princey, you're explaining now." She barks back, and for a moment Jason feels almost confused. He's not used to people questioning his authority, even Rachel doesn't usually.

 

"Look, I have to deal with her, so can it. I'll answer when I can," he lets his words verge on a growl, but Reyna doesn't budge. Instead, she smacks him out of the way and calmly arranges Rachel back against the headboard of the bed. She then throws his notebook at his head, narrowly missing him, and gives him the worst death glare he's ever received in his life.

 

"Put your own notebook away, and explain. Now." Her voice doesn't leave room for argument. Jason gulps and rushes to do so, for her questioning his authority has an entirely different air about it than him questioning hers. He has to hold his ground because of tradition, he's got a feeling that Reyna can actually defend her title with more than blood status.

 

"Look, it's a really long and complicated story and I don't even know most of it-"

 

"You're stalling. Talk." Reyna crosses her arms and her leg over her pegleg, her death glare seems to get worse with each passing second. Jason gulps.

 

"Okay. Okay. What do you know about the bloodlines?"

 

~~

 

Thalia isn't Zoë. That's what Artemis tells herself when she walks by the sparring area and finds Thalia teaching some of the younger hunters tips on swordplay.

 

Thalia isn't Zoë, she reminds again when Thalia and Cynthia argue over the better way to deal with an incoming pod of dolphins. Thalia's voice never straying to angry, but commanding in the respect that it nearly overpowers her own.

 

Thalia definitely isn't Zoë. She doesn't need to remind herself that when Thalia appears in her office the next day, being dragged by the arm by Cynthia who looks absolutely done, and Diana in her other arm. Both Thalia and Diana looking quite proud of themselves and drenched from head to toe.

 

Despite that, Artemis finds herself forgetting it on occasion. She forgets when Thalia comes to scold her for missing breakfast and dinner. She forgets when Thalia forcibly drags her into her cabin and yells at her to sleep. She forgets when Thalia's instructing younger hunters how to properly hold a sword and she smiles at Artemis like she's been doing this her entire life.

 

Because despite the obvious differences of Thalia being ever the more reckless, and absolutely ridiculous, they really are quite similar. They're proud, loyal, and reckless with their own lives but will do anything to protect those under their command. Zoë is protective of Artemis despite the obvious power difference, and as far as Artemis can tell that protective streak is in Thalia as well. Like a dog. Now that's a thought Artemis is sure neither Thalia nor Zoë would approve of.

 

Regardless, that protective streak is of no help to Artemis when she attempts to leave her cabin one morning after spending the duration of it pacing like a caged tiger and instead finds a fully dressed Thalia standing on the other side with her arms crossed. Artemis blinks, staring at Thalia with a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

 

"How long have you been standing there?" She huffs and Thalia smirks.

 

"Long enough. Now, you  _need. To. Sleep_." With that Thalia pushes her way into the cabin, snatches Artemis by the collar of her shirt and shoves her down on her bed, pressing her arms down so she can't just sit back up. With a final huff of exasperation, Artemis gives Thalia a deadpan look.

 

"You do realize that I can quite literally throw you from here?" she asks and Thalia shrugs, a smirk quirking along her lips.

 

"You could, but you won't, because you like me too much." Artemis shakes her head and carefully extracts her arms from Thalia's grip.

 

"Sorry, but I have to do work today, and I'm afraid sleep is not on the schedule," however when she goes to stand, Thalia steps forwards to block her, arms crossed and eyes sparking like a mast in a storm.

 

"It's on my, Cynthia, and Diane's schedule, so get used to it." She doesn't give Artemis a chance to reply and instead shoves her down on the bed, and then promptly sits on her legs to keep her from trying to get up again. Artemis lets out an exasperated sigh and lets her head fall back against the pillow.

 

"Did you really get my two oldest hunters in on this ridiculous plan of yours?" she grumbles and Thalia's smile is like a dagger twisting in the sunlight.

 

"I might've bribed them with my dessert for the next two weeks," she laughs, a broad sound like thunder clapping. "Kidding, no we're all worried about you. You haven't slept at least since I got on this ship, and probably haven't since Hades took Zoë." Artemis flinches at the name and something deep in the pit of her stomach drops. She knows that of course Thalia is right, and she should sleep, but she also knows why she has to avoid it at all costs. Thalia's expression is the most serious she's seen it since she met the girl, eyes devoid of smile lines and mouth pressed into a thin line.

 

"I can't," she says finally and Thalia opens her mouth to speak, but Artemis holds up a hand to stop her. "It has nothing to do with 'grief' or inability to feel exhaustion because trust me, I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep because..." she sighs once more and gives Thalia a long look, judging whether or not it's worth the explanation. Thalia's arms are still crossed and she's giving her an expectant look. Artemis gulps. "Because I share an empathy link with Zoë. If I sleep I'll have to deal with everything Zoë's dealt with over the past month and a half."

 

Thalia's expression is a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. She opens her mouth as if to argue, then thinks better of it and instead presses hands to her temples.

 

"Of course you have a telepathic link with your girlfriend. Why not."

 

"She's not-" Artemis insists, but Thalia places a hand over her mouth, effectively stopping her.

 

"She is. Stop denying it." Thalia still looks the most serious Artemis is beginning to think she has in her life. "Look, alright, you've got a lot of shit on your plate right now, and you need to sort it out. I get that you don't want to have to deal with whatever shit pit Hades has thrown your girlfriend in, but you need to. Even when you find her again, the next time you fall asleep it will be a trip down memory lane, so either you're going to get some sleep, or you're going to never sleep again for the rest of your immortal lifespan."

 

Artemis hates it when Thalia makes sense.

 

"You know, you're really good at this." She says finally in defeat and that damn smirk lights up Thalia's face once more.

 

"I've been a first mate for a while, Cap'n. I know my way around people like you." For a second, only the very smallest of seconds, Artemis catches a hint of bitterness in Thalia's tone, but that's gone just as soon as it appears. Artemis almost wants to say something about it, but eventually, decides that's a conversation for another day.

 

~

 

She's in pain, dragging across broken glass and jagged stone on wounds that sting like a dagger constantly punching her in the side. Her vision is nothing more than a sliver of dying moonlight through the mouth of the cave, and Zoë wants to laugh at the irony of it. That her lady may as well be her last witness even when she's not physically there with her. It's a choking sensation in her throat and she receives a smack to the back of the head for her trouble. Her chest rattles uncomfortably with each breath.

 

"Quiet," the thrall's eyes are pinpricks in the dull light and Zoë grins, showing off teeth and snapping at him like a wild dog, she left her dignity on the ship with Artemis and she's not afraid to show it. The thrall jumps back, and Zoë kicks at him, legs joined together at the ankle and delivering a hard force to the man's stomach. He yelps like an injured dog and crumples to the ground. Zoë takes her chance, rolling over and pinning him down with her entire body given both her hands and feet are bound. The ghost spits in her face and she spits right back, growling like a rabid animal.

 

"Thou is going to help me or I shall rip thy teeth from thy neck," Zoë's voice sounds foreign to her own ears, gravelly and broken. The thrall laughs a horrible coughing thing that grates just as much on her eardrums. He grabs her by the throat and squeezes while Zoë kicks violently at his face.

 

"You're definitely an 'old one' I'll give you that. Just like your father Atlas, all talk, and no fight." Zoë's eyes widen in recognition of the name and she thrashes violently, kicking and shoving with all the strength left in her body, but the thrall simply squeezes tighter around Zoë's neck until she's forced to succumb to his grip. The anger boiling in her stomach is hardly going to be able to save her. Her vision washes with spots and sparks of light that aren't there and the Thrall eventually releases her so that she can breathe once again.

 

'Fuck. You," she gasps and the thrall laughs. He's nothing more than the whites of eyes in the light and Zoë has no interest in actually seeing his face.

 

"You're lucky I've been ordered not to do just that, I think you're just my type." Something in Zoë's stomach plunges downwards taking her with it, she wants to yell, scream, sink her teeth and fingers into the flesh of someone long dead. She craves the weight of something metal in her hands but is left only with the weight of someone's breath on her cheek. She coughs violently and the thrall goes back to dragging her across the cave floor.

 

"Where is thou taking me?" Her voice is a rasp and nothing more, she can hardly even make out her own words. He rattles a laugh.

 

"You're lucky you don't know princess, the boss is getting impatient and he's decided to remind your little goddess exactly why she needs to speed things along." Zoë's blood is cold and the weight in her stomach drops into her toes. She has to choke down her despair and instead set a glare on the thrall.

 

"My lady will not abandon me." She means those words more than she ever has in her life because for as long as she's known Artemis she's known that she's just as protective of her as she is.

 

"You have a lot of faith in a woman who just as easily run in the opposite direction." The thrall's face catches the light and Zoë has to force herself to keep what little food she has down. He's only half-formed, whatever killed him was gruesome, pieces of flesh still hang mangled from his face, a twisted version of a once handsome man.

 

"I trust my lady." Zoë lets her voice ring with as much conviction as she can muster and the man smiles a horrible thing. Bone protruding on his entire left side of his face.

 

"Then you should have no problem reminding her why she should speed up her boat." With that, he shoves her into what Zoë can only describe as a torture chamber, what the room's original purpose was she does not know, instead she's faced with the fact that she's surrounded by a million sharp objects and a thousand blunt ones.

 

"So, does thou have any idea what shall 'remind' my lady," she spits the words like they taste bitter on her tongue. The thrall's twisted visage looms over her like a giant and that rattling laugh causes his ribcage to shake unnaturally. She swallows the blood beginning to pool inside her left cheek.

 

"Oh trust me," he lifts a rapier longer than both his arms, "she'll remember this, and you will too."


	9. Trouble in hell

“You neglected to mention this earlier why?” Reyna’s gaze burns into Jason’s. She truly doesn’t know what to make of this mess of a human being. He’s not anything close to Thalia, nothing close to a king either for that matter. He doesn’t have Thalia’s natural air of respect, but he has a goofy smile and glasses that always seem to sit crooked on his face. He’s also clearly terrified of her.   
  


“I-i didn’t think it’d affect the mission!” Sweat pours down his hairline, mixing with watery blue eyes. Thalia’s eyes, it’s the only thing she’s found they have in common so far. The same stormy blue eyes.   
  


“Well clearly it is,” she growls the words and watches him physically flinch away from her. She’s not entirely sure why he’s so scared of her, she hasn’t attacked or even been outright mean to him yet.   
  


“Look, it’s not that simple, there are descendants of the bloodlines everywhere, and most of them live their entire lives without even knowing they’re related.”   
  


“Then why do you? What does the royalty of England have to gain from knowing that they’re descended from gods when no one else does?”   
  


“Because my father is my family’s matriarch,” Jason snarls, it’s the most aggressive thing he’s done so far. “Because I’m a direct descendant of the matriarch responsible for it all and I have to deal with the knowledge of how to use the aspect-”   
  


“Back up-” Reyna interrupts, “the King of England is an all-powerful demigod?”   
  


“He prefers the term ‘god’, but yes,” Jason leans back against the wall, running a nervous hand back through his blonde hair. Reyna swallows and rubs her temples, trying to process that.   
  


“Well shit.”   
  


“Relax,” Jason mutters, “most people in positions of power are either descendants or matriarchs themselves. Minerva, the queen of Spain, she’s one.” He thinks he’s being helpful, she can tell by the tone of his voice. He’s not.   
  


“So you’re telling me that all these people I’ve continually messed with, are all powerful gods?!”   
  


“Well not exactly,” Jason mutters, “they’re vulnerable to other members of the bloodlines, like admiral Ares, he was killed by Thalia, and he was able to be killed because Thalia’s a descendant of Zeus.”   
  


“That makes me feel better,” Reyna grumbles sarcastically. Jason sighs and rubs his face.   
  


“It’s a lot to take in-”   
  


“Really? Didn’t notice.”   
  


“-but,” he gives her a reproachful look, “the main thing to focus on here, is that the bloodlines have aspects, and the people in those bloodlines can use those aspects from time to time. I think that Rachel’s prophecy is telling us that members of certain bloodlines will have parts to play.”   
  


“Well, then who’s who?” she snaps and Jason shrugs unhelpfully.   
  


“Could be anyone really, there are thousands of people out there related who don’t even know it, and then, of course, there’s the possibility of it referring to the matriarchs themselves and-”   
  


“And, you’re giving me a headache!” Reyna stands and begins pacing, ignoring the discomfort her leg gives her. It’s nothing compared to the throbbing between her temples.   
  


“Look,” he says again and Reyna snaps her head towards him to glare. “The thing is, I think we already know most of the people in the prophecy. There are twelve major bloodlines and the matriarchs of those bloodlines are known for getting busy. Those being Zeus, Poseidon, H-”   
  


“Hang on,” Reyna interrupts once more, “the king of France?!”   
  


“Yes.” Jason deadpans. “Hades-” he ignores Reyna’s sudden sputtering, “Minerva, Ares, Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Demeter, Dionysus, Artemis-” more spluttering, “and Hera.”   
  


“You’re telling me,” Reyna starts off calm, but her voice grows stronger with each passing second, “that Thalia was kidnapped by a goddess, for a god, and you knew about this, and neglected to mention it?!”   
  


Jason blinks as if she’s poked him between the eyes. “I… I didn’t think about that…”   
  


Reyna screams, tugging at her hair and pressing her skull into the wall.   
  


“That’s it, I'm taking a walk, we’ll finish this conversation later.” And despite whatever protests Jason has, she leaves.   
  


~~   
  


Artemis nearly decapitates Thalia when she wakes up. Well okay, that’s a bit of an overstatement, but not by much. She doesn’t decapitate Thalia, but she does probably give her another concussion, which is just dandy.   
  


Thalia was just calmly cleaning Artemis’s deceptively neat room (it was actually a complete mess, but for some reason, you wouldn’t notice at first glance) when Artemis suddenly sprung out of the bed and tackled her to the ground and slammed her skull into the floor, giving her black spots. After making enough sense of the situation not to kill Thalia, Thalia was left with ringing in her ears and a sponge pressed to her third head wound since she boarded the ship.   
  


“You know, if you kill me again I wouldn’t be surprised,” is the best she can muster and she receives a glare from Artemis in response.   
  


“The sleep was your idea, so I don’t think you have a place to complain here.” Artemis’s voice is bordering on angry, but she looks a lot better, less like she’s on the cusp of passing out cold anyway.   
  


“Well you also bashed my head into the floor,” she bites back and Artemis’s expression does soften slightly, but Thalia can see the poorly hidden tension in her eyes, “what happened?”   
  


“I just…” Artemis sighs and her shoulders heave with the breath. She rubs at her face and drops it into her hands. “I told you about the-”   
  


“Telepathic link with your girlfriend,” Thalia finishes for her and receives another glare, but this one is less hostile and more exasperated.   
  


“That.” she says simply, “Well, it appears you aren’t the only one aware of it.”   
  


“Hades?”   
  


“Yes.” Artemis’s face turns back into the one that’s overstressed and underslept. Something in Thalia’s chest aches while something else screams at her that she needs to get a grip. She ignores it, at this point she has to be friends with Artemis, there isn’t anything she can really be, there’s no point in denying it.   
  


“He knows, and he’s made it very clear that he will exploit it.” Artemis stares at the floorboards and Thalia moves forwards to place a hand on Artemis’s shoulder. She winces and shifts away from Thalia. Thalia is mildly offended.   
  
  


“So…” she lets the word hang in the air and Artemis doesn’t finish for her. Instead, she’s left with vacant silver eyes, staring at something only she can see. Thalia knows this, knows this emotion she’s witnessing. Grief, mixed with a bitter shock and a helplessness that hurts more than anything else in the world. There is no word for it, and Thalia hates that there isn’t. It’s far too common of an emotion not to.   
  


“Artemis.” Again, the word hangs unanswered in the quiet cabin. Finally, Thalia realizes she’s not going to get an answer. Sighing, she stands and brushes herself off.   
  


“I’ll get Cynthia and Diane to help take over for the rest of the day, just… get some sleep, even if you don’t want to.” Artemis doesn’t answer her, and Thalia leaves her in the silence.   
  


~~   
  


Zoë can’t breathe.   


  
She’s falling   
  


Swirling   
  


Spinning   
  


Suffocating   
  


Drowning   
  


Dying.   
  


She hits the water with the full force of terminal velocity. Pain shooting through her body as if it were concrete she hit rather than water, and now she’s really drowning, gasping for breath and taking in only water in response, unable to see anything in any possible direction and left alone to sink to the bottom.   
  


There’s light, no sound other than her panicked paddling, and her gasps for air that isn’t there. Slowly, the darkness takes her too, taking with it her limbs, now numb, and her lungs, now submerged. She falls, ever so slowly, sinking in darkness with nothing to lose.   
  


“Alzarsi.” The voice is gentle, so very gentle, a girl’s,  Zoë thinks vaguely, but can’t fully grasp the words, or their meaning. She opens her mouth to respond and instead releases a stream of water from her mouth.   
  


_Blurrblp._ It’s a horrible bubbling, wet sound that makes  Zoë want to vomit, but the more she opens her mouth the more water comes out. She chokes on it, water tumbling to land in a puddle around her. There’s a hand on her back, moving in circles and whispering things in a language that she can’t understand. It’s a soft voice, like the one of a child.  Zoë coughs, more and more, streaming out water until she’s left with nothing.   
  


She hacks at it, coughing a horrible rattling cough that reminds her vaguely of the man in the cave. That thought leaves her horribly cold. The voice returns.   
  


“Stai bene?” Italian,  Zoë manages.   
  


“Can’t… breathe…” her words are surprisingly articulate considering she’s still dropping bits of water from her lips. There’s a quiet mumbling that  Zoë can’t make out and then she’s lifted upwards and propped against something flat and cool. Warm hands lift her face from her chest and something sweet is placed on her tongue.  Zoë can barely make out the shape of a girl. She can’t be any older than twelve, but all of her features are taken by the darkness.   
  


“Who…?” she wheezes. She’s not entirely sure if the girl can understand her, but she must because she answers.   
  


“Bianca.”   
  


Zoë can make out a small source of light to their left, but it’s far too dark and she’s far too tired to make it out completely.   
  


“Where… are… we…”  Zoë finds that she still can’t breathe, yet she can still make sound, how that’s possible, and how she’s alive is anyone’s guess. Bianca’s hands leave  Zoë’s face and instead wrap around her shoulders lifting her just enough to drag her along the ground. For some reason it doesn’t hurt, nothing does, it’s just numb.   
  


“We,” Bianca’s voice is as gentle as always and thick with an Italian accent. “Are dead.”   
  


~~   
  


Nico hates the ship. It’s plush, posh, and everything that he’d dreamt of sailing in as a kid in the British navy. They don’t even have cots, instead full beds anchored to the walls with bolts and plates of polished brass. He hates it because it just reminds him of the Nico that left Britain when he was 12.   
  


“Nico!” Will yells enthusiastically from the top bunk, grinning hugely. “Look at the size of this place!!”   
  


“Will you two calm it down,” Annabeth barks from her spot next to the door, calmly arranging her stuff along the inner cabin wall. Annabeth had made her way into the crew in a very interesting way. Given she was definitely the most traditional British person he knew. Her favorite drink was tea, she insisted on spelling things with unnecessary u’s, and had such a thick posh accent that Jason, in all his kingly glory, had to be jealous.   
  


She probably would’ve escaped the crew and runoff, if not for a certain pair of flirty pirates. Yes, Annabeth was powerful, smart, and the least likely person to be swayed by her heart, but throw a pair of pirates with sexy accents and troublemaking tendencies her way and she melted like butter.   
  


“Annabeth they’re just having fun,” Hazel soothes and Annabeth simply lets out an exasperated sigh. Truly, Percy and Piper could only account for about half of Annabeth’s transition from blubbering loyalist to one woman death machine. The other half belonged to Annabeth’s friendship in her former crewmates, whose transitions had been much smoother.   
  


“Well they need to keep the ‘fun’ to a minimum, we’re in enemy territory now.”   
  


“If I recall,” Nico adds in, “this used your territory, Chase.” Steely grey eyes glare down at him.   
  


“Keep your thoughts to yourself di angelo.”   
  


“Alright, break it up,” Frank intercedes, smiling nervously, “We aren’t going to make it very far if you two try to kill each other on the first day.”   
  


“I’m just stating facts,” Nico mutters calmly and turns back to his belongings, smoothing out the sheets on his much too cushy bed. Annabeth sends him another glare before turning back to her own bed.   
  


“You were a Brit too,” she mutters after a minute of awkward silence. Nico laughs.   
  


“Yeah, seven years ago.”   
  


“What’s the difference?”   
  


“I never had the luxury of getting to be the king’s favorite little b-”   
  


“Enough!” Hazel interrupts once more, stepping between the two of them. Nico’s eyes remain bored into Annabeth’s, matching her death glare head on.   
  


What’s your problem di angelo?!” Annabeth snarls, baring her teeth like a wolf. Nico grinds his together.   
  


“My problem is that how do we know that when this whole thing goes south, and we know it will, that you won't turn on us just to go crawling back to England?!”   
  


“Nico-” Hazel’s warning him, but he’s already poked the bear one too many times. Annabeth’s dagger is impaled in the wood beside his head faster than he can blink. He doesn’t move an inch and keeps his gaze locked on hers. Annabeth’s hands shake at her sides and the cabin is so quiet you can hear her breath.   
  


“I have too much riding on this mission to even think of the implications of what you’re suggesting.” Annabeth’s voice is dangerously soft, at the point where Nico has to lean in to hear her. “Piper is-!” Her voice breaks in a way that Nico’s never heard it before and Annabeth pauses, swallowing whatever inklings of emotions she has. “Piper is with child. I will not even think of abandoning her and Percy to this, so don’t you dare suggest where my loyalties lie, di angelo.”   
  


With that she slams down the rest of her belongings onto the bed and marches out the door, leaving her coat on the floorboards.   
  


Silence. No one moves, no one speaks, but Nico can feel all of their gazes on him. He sighs and sits back on the bed, wringing out his hands.   
  


“What the hell what that about?!” Frank is a calm and gentleman, so when he curses you know something’s wrong.   
  


“Don’t worry about it,” Nico whispers and is met with a glare from his younger sister.   
  


“Nico.”   
  


“Do-”   
  


“Don’t tell me what to do,” She snaps and grabs him by the front of his shirt. “What the hell, was that about?!”   
  


Nico can’t meet those molten gold eyes. He looks down at Annabeth’s coat.   
  


“I don’t know,” he answers finally and is met with disbelief.   
  


“You don’t know?!”   
  


“I don’t know!” He roars the words in her face and yanks himself away. “I don’t know! Okay?! I just know that anytime I get stuck within five feet of her I feel like ripping someone’s intestines out!”   
  


Will finally steps into the conversation, jumping down in between Hazel and him.   
  


“Let’s all calm down,” he raises his hands placatingly, but even he doesn’t look like he’s happy about it.   
  


“Will, I-”   
  


He raises a hand in Nico’s face.   
  


“We’ve all had a long day, let’s just… let’s just relax for now. Okay? We’ve got a long way to go.”   
  


~~   
  


The sea is just as Reyna remembers. Unchanging despite all that she’s experienced in the past week. Lost limbs, trips to the afterlife, and stories of gods and goddesses aside, Reyna feels tired. So, so very tired. She sighs and rests her chin on her hands, watching as the island with her crew grows smaller and smaller on the horizon.   
  


“Am I interrupting, Captain?” Reyna straightens suddenly, turning to look at Annabeth. She was a lot of things, things that Reyna never truly knew how to describe. Smart? Definitely. Capable? More than half of the ship combined. Good with people? Not exactly. Following orders? Most of the time. Loyal? To those, she trusted, yes.   
  


“No, just… it’s been a long day, long couple of weeks.” She sighs and returns to leaning against the railing. The Island is little more than a speck at this rate.   
  


“Tell me about it,” Annabeth sighs and leans back against the railing as well. Reyna doesn’t fail to notice she’s missing the coat that Percy had stolen from a small shop in Italy for her.   
  


“Well I think we both have a good idea where it starts,” Reyna mutters and jerks her head towards the Island. Annabeth chuckles dryly.   
  


“Yeah, well, finding out your boyfriend got your girlfriend pregnant isn’t great news either,” She murmurs. Reyna sighs and drops her head.   
  


“Do you wish I’d let you stay?”   
  


“-god no.” Annabeth never looks nervous, but right now she looks frighteningly close. “I… I never knew my mum, and my dad never seemed to have time for me, that’s why I joined the Navy, to get out of the house. I just… the last thing I wanted was to potentially be a bad parent as well.”   
  


“Annabeth,” Reyna gives her a serious look, “you do realize you already mother, about, half the crew right? You’ve only been with us for three months and the Stolls have called you ‘mum’ at least five times.”   
  


Annabeth’s face turns an impressive shade of pink, “well… I guess... Just… I don’t know.” she drops her head into a sigh. “I don’t, really. It seems that literally no one, except Will, had good parents on our ship.”   
  


Reyna laughs, it’s a tired one, but it feels good to laugh after all that’s happened. “Yep. That’s us, just a giant crew of young adults with mommy and daddy issues.”   
  


“Oh shut it,” she kicks Reyna lightly in the shin, but a small grin has returned to her face. Reyna’s struck with how rare that smile is, and how Thalia always seemed to be able to coax it out. Her chest aches.   


  
“Annabeth, our past does not define us, any more than what you had for breakfast does. Don’t fear the future, shape it. If any of us has learned that, I have.” Reyna watches the island disappear over the horizon with the setting sun.   
  


“We are going to find her,” Annabeth promises and Reyna sighs.   
  


“I’m just hoping she’s alive when we do.”


	10. Stone Heart

After three thousand years of wondering and speculating, Zoë finds that death is nothing like she had expected. It's not cold, there's no fire or endless screams.

 

It's silent, peaceful almost, it's not warm, nor unbearably cold. It just simply is. It's comforting almost, at least it would be if not for her slightly creepy company.

 

Bianca, as she introduced herself, is silent and more than that, she won't look at Zoë for longer than three seconds. What Zoë has managed to glean from the girl can be summed up in two words: she's dead.

 

Not the most comforting sentiment. Bianca had failed to elaborate more than that. She'd simply told she was dead and dragged her into what Zoë assumes is the younger girl's home. However, the longer Zoë sits there, the more she became accustomed to the fact that the girl clearly doesn't live alone.

 

Clothes much too large to be Bianca's litter the floor and two beds are pushed against opposite corners of the cabin. One which was much messier than the other. Bianca has failed to speak to her since bringing her into the home, and at the moment Zoë's in too much of a state of shock to care.

 

Death, as it would appear, is extremely anticlimactic. Instead of having to face whatever travesties she's surely committed over her long, long life she's subjected simply to the sound of drizzling rain on the roof and the minor uncomfortableness from being unable to breathe. Bianca pays her no mind, simply watching emotionlessly as a grey fire dances beneath her fingers.

 

Despite the fact that water continues to drip from her lips despite her best efforts, she's left with Bianca, who appears strangely untouched. The girl can't be any older than 12, with round cheeks and dark eyes. Her hair spills from her skull like ink and Zoë's struck with she's seen that expression before. Where is unclear.

 

"May.... May I ask thee a question?" Her voice sounds so strange to her own ears, carrying with it that strange wet quality that she's yet to figure out how to rid herself of. Bianca's eyes don't leave the fire, nor does she give any indication that she's heard Zoë; however, before Zoë can ask again she speaks.

 

"Wait until she gets back." Five simple words that offer no explanation.

 

"Who is she?" Zoë is unable to stop the question. Bianca doesn't answer, instead, she lifts a twig and carefully lays it in the fire, the flames lick over her fingers without leaving any sign of touching. Zoë's stomach bubbles uncomfortably.

 

"You're new here." Bianca still doesn't look at her, "you're bound to have a lot of questions, but she has seen more of this place than I ever will. She can explain."

 

"Who is she?" Zoë repeats. Slowly, Bianca's gaze lifts from the flames. Zoë's learned over her thousands of years of experience to never underestimate anyone based on their age, and she's met the eyes of monsters and gods alike. What she sees in Bianca's gaze scares her more than any of that. Bianca's eyes are so incredibly alive. In a place where even the air in her lungs is dead, Bianca thrives. Dark eyes drag their way up her skin like a rusty dagger to plant themselves into her own. Zoë chokes on her nonexistent breath and burns underneath Bianca's gaze. She's dying within the embrace of death.

 

Bianca doesn't answer her, simply leaves her suspended within her gaze and Zoë can't look away, it's just like the first time she met Artemis. She can't help but feel she's looking into the soul of someone much, much more powerful than she could even imagine.

 

"Bianca?" The voice is different than any other Zoë's heard so far in this place. Bianca always speaks as if some's rationed her syllables. This voice, on the other hand, is powerful, commanding. Bianca's gaze slowly slides from Zoë's and she's released from whatever spell she'd been under.

 

It still takes her a moment to get up the courage to look at the newcomer. Tall, bronzed skin and charcoal eyes not unsimilar to the girl sitting next to her. Fortunately, not as dangerous, but just as confusing. She scowls at Zoë, darting her gaze between Bianca and herself, finally, she settles it on Zoë and takes a step forwards. Blood drops down her from every step, splashing to the floor, but she seems unaffected. As soon as it hits it disappears from existence.

 

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" It's not a question, it's an order, and Zoë feels the familiar rush of blood from being ordered about by anyone other than her Artemis.

 

"I should ask thy the same," she snaps back, moving to stand, but Bianca's hand comes to rest on her knee, effectively trapping her.

 

"Hylla," the girl breaks in, "this is Zoë. Zoë nightshade." Zoë blinks, sure she hasn't told the girl her full name. Hylla's expression turns from defensive to one of interest, like a cat with an injured bird. She's sure she hasn't heard the expression of not playing with her food.

 

"Nightshade? Artemis's bimbo?" She crosses her arms and Zoë feels her chest swell with rage.

 

"Bimbo?!" she snarls, standing to her full height. Hylla still towers over her, a shadow in the firelight. Whatever killed her was gruesome, a single sword protrudes from her chest, leaking blood down her front and leaving her vital organs exposed for the world to see. Hylla doesn't seem the least bit concerned.

 

"Well it's what you are, ain't ya?" Hylla's smirk is venomous. Zoë wants to smack it off of her.

 

"I am her lieutenant, you villain!" her breath tastes metallic. Hylla's smirk widens.

 

"Calm down Shakespeare. I'm just wondering if you're going to be sticking around or not. Clearly not if you're Artemis's "lieutenant"." She makes quotations with her hands and Zoë's skin feels as if it's on fire.

 

"You will respect mine goddess, or pay thine price," her voice is absolutely demonic. Hylla's smirk now shows her teeth, bared and ready for the kill. It's a remarkably wolven expression.

 

"The bimbo has a temper." She observes. Zoë's mouth pulls into a snarl and she lets the growl reverberate through her chest. She steps forwards as if to attack and Bianca stands between them. Hylla's smirk disappears immediately and she turns her full attention back to the girl.

 

"You two need to cool it or I'll throw both of you out there to them." Bianca's gaze remains fixed on Hylla, and Zoë's glad to see that the utter fear that she'd felt in the girl's eyes is mutual. Hylla shrinks beneath it.

 

"Sorry..." Hylla ducks her head and Bianca turns to look at Zoë, she shivers.

 

"Ask." She demands. Zoë swallows.

 

"How did I... what does Hades have to gain by killing me, I'm his bargaining chip against my lady?" Hylla snorts and Bianca doesn't spare her anything other than a dirty look. Hylla straightens.

 

"Hades will have full control of your body as long as you're dead, that way he can keep Artemis from going off the rails with her plan. From my observations, she's grown pretty attached to Thalia." Zoë blinks, vaguely familiar with the name, she'd heard Hades mention it once or twice.

 

"Thalia?" she questions. Bianca speaks, the third direct answer she's gotten from her.

 

"My cousin. Daughter of Zeus." She gives no expression or emotion to the statement. She doesn't have an opinion on the matter.

 

"Why would Hades want a child of his brother, surely he knows by now that the man cares none for his offspring?" Hylla sighs, her shoulders drooping.

 

"This has nothing to do with getting back at Zeus," Hylla's voice loses all traces of mischief and lands on a somberness that Zoë's unfamiliar with. "He lost one of his children to a terrible curse, one that Poseidon's child had held long before. He reckons it's Zeus's turn to bear it, for he's the one one who cares not for his offspring."

 

"But this Thalia is his only female heir?" Zoë murmurs, confused.

 

"Exactly," Hylla responds. "The Zeus bloodline can't carry on if she's bearing the curse."

 

"And that means-"

 

"Zeus has a reason to fear him and get his act together." Bianca finishes. Hylla scowls.

 

"And he puts another innocent person in a position she didn't ask for."

 

"Would you rather one of the others be put in?" Bianca questions, whirling on Hylla. Hylla meets her glare with her own, her hair stands up like a cat's. The sword that protrudes from her chest begins flickering wildly.

 

"I'd rather that he use his powers to try and break the curse than continue to put innocent people in the place of others."

 

"I have been here," Bianca snaps, her glare is absolutely murderous. "For ten years. You have no way to imagine what it feels to be frozen for ten years. A decade, spent with the inability to feel anything because my heart is trapped within the stone corpse of a child."

 

"Would you choose to subject others to that same pain?!" Hylla roars. Bianca doesn't answer, simply fixes her with that terrible glare. Every hair on Zoë's body stands up as if she's been shocked.

 

"I have been nothing. For ten years." Bianca answers finally. "I have felt nothing for ten years. I have no qualms about others because I  _can't_  have qualms about others."

 

Hylla deflates like a popped balloon. Her shoulders sag and her face falls to her hands. She sighs before bringing it back up.

 

"She's my sister's everything. I can't just let this happen."

 

"You have no choice," Bianca answers and sits back down beside the fire. "Only the living do, and the Dead can only watch in silence and regret."

 

Hylla doesn't argue, simply settles on the other side of the fire. In its glow she appears absolutely godly, despite the white flames, her skin turns a glowing orange. "Death sucks."

 

~

 

Artemis hardly sleeps. Thalia thought it was bad before, but it's even worse now, the goddess has been dead set on getting them to Hades' Island as soon as possible since her rest and consequential girlfriend dream.

 

However, despite the fact that when they get there Thalia will most likely either end up dead or a slave, she finds she's more concerned about Artemis's mental health than her own impending doom. She seriously needs to see a psychiatrist when this is all over, she thinks she might have Stockholm syndrome.

 

Artemis's lack of sleep has lead to Thalia walking in on the increasingly ridiculously placed unconscious goddess. From hanging from the mast, to standing in the lower decks, to curled into a ball within a pile of rigging, it seems that Artemis does, in fact, need sleep, and her lack of it results in a teleporting goddess.

 

Dragging Artemis back to her room is always fun because it gives Thalia just as many glares as she had received when she first was announced as an honorary hunter. Artemis of course never notices, or if she does she doesn't mention it. Instead, she fixes her with stoic stares and quiet words.

 

It seems Artemis is trying to distance herself, it makes sense because she's going to end up handing Thalia over as a bargaining chip in the long run anyway, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. Instead, Thalia clings on like a very large, overgrown leech.

 

Artemis can put her on duty on the lower deck as much as she likes and work her on 22 hour work days for as long as she wants, Thalia will still find time to pop into her cabin every hour or so to make sure she hasn't gotten herself hurt or passed out in another ridiculous position. It grinds Artemis's gears, but she appreciates it more than she cares to admit. It's been a long time since she's had someone besides Zoë who could match her bullheaded stubbornness.

 

Zoë. The word hangs heavy in the air aboard the entire ship, news had spread fast that Artemis had new information on Zoë and it wasn't good, but the rumors went from death all the way to sex slave and Artemis decides it's better to just ignore them all together than face the truth.

 

Zoë is no longer just a bargaining chip, but a very clear threat held to her throat. Hades has full grasp over her lieutenant and she knows that he will do anything to get her to comply. Thalia is to be delivered, alive, to Hades in a week's time. She's to be bound, but not gagged, and brought on her knees to the god of death. Then, and only after being given into the custody of Hades himself, will Artemis be given the corpse of her beloved, and only after Artemis witnesses whatever horror Hades has in store for the young girl, will Zoë's spirit be given back as well.

 

Artemis feels sick. Her chest refuses to breathe properly and her stomach roils in rebellion from her heart, which beats erratically in her chest. Zoë Nightshade is dead, and she will remain so if she doesn't give Hades what he wants.

 

That leaves her with her other problem, Thalia Grace. Thalia Stubborn Grace who, despite her best efforts, seems determined to continue being kind and an absolute menace to Artemis at the same time. She'll continue to carry her back to her cabin, endure glares from her huntresses, give her lectures about self-care, force to eat and sleep. Then, in the same breath, turn around and rally her huntresses against her in sparring matches, wrestling games, and swimming competitions. She'll run across the ship to fetch a pail of water in the event that Artemis has forgotten to drink any that morning, but just as soon dive over the sign after being discovered of throwing half her wardrobe into the stew.

 

If Artemis hadn't already been confused about her opinion of the other girl she's certainly determined to make it worse. For she appreciates the girl for everything she's done for her, especially considering the circumstances, but she's reaching the end of her rope with Thalia's pranks.

 

The girl certainly does do a good impression of her brother Apollo.

 

Artemis sighs as Thalia walks across the deck, mopping the wood whilst whistling some tune that Artemis has long forgotten. Thalia appears nothing like her father, but instead boasts all of the same proud features of her father. The same dark hair and electric eyes as well as her father's sharp nose and handsome jawline. However, Thalia is not her father, she is not the man that would violate and curse her hunters after countless warning from her own, instead, Thalia defends even the most vocal of her hunters.

 

Her hunters can glare and ridicule Thalia, and she'll still throw her body over theirs in the event of an explosion. That selflessness, that loyalty, that's Zoë. She sees Zoë in Thalia's stance, wide and prepared, in her careful steps and confident smile. She sees Zoë in the way Thalia laughs at the younger hunter's hijinks and bumps elbows with Diana in the event of another scheme to get everything flying off the rails.

 

However, Thalia is not Zoë, Zoë is dead, and Artemis is reminded of that every time Thalia grins at her with Zoë's smile.

 

Her heart clenches and Artemis is forced to face the one thing she's been trying to forget for the longest time. Thalia's continued insistence that Zoë was more than just her lieutenant. Of course, the accusation should be ridiculous. She's been near Zoë for three thousand years. If she felt any sort of attraction she would've acted on it by now, but then again, Zoë had never been taken from her before.

 

Now Artemis finds that every little second without her torture, plain and simple. She sees her lieutenant in everything, from the stars above to the fish swimming below. Zoë is everywhere and it's killing Artemis. She cannot lose her lieutenant.

 

She cannot abandon Thalia.

 

She can't.

 

But she will.

 

Because Artemis does not know who she would be without her Zoë. The moon is nothing without her stars.

 

~

 

Rachel is sure that Jason and Reyna are never going to get along. Not that is surprises her, but it still is annoying. Reyna can't go longer than five seconds without making some sort of half-assed comment about Jason, and Jason simply responds by spouting insults like a bad mouthed kindergartener.

 

Reyna clearly takes pleasure in his responses, smirking in his pink face and then commenting on him sounding like a scared puppy, to which Jason splutters wildly and swats at her. Reyna laughs wildly and gives him enough time to compose himself before initiating the cycle once more.

 

It's like siblings. Really, really annoying siblings. Rachel's not entirely sure how the Pirates put up with their captain, because from what she's seen so far she's anything but impressed. Reyna is bad mouthed, cold, careless, and cunning in all senses of the word.

 

The woman is a snake and doesn't seem concerned about anyone else coming to grasp that. Instead, she flaunts it, giving her snide comments, rude smirks, and refusing to use her correct name. It makes her blood boil.

 

Then there's Annabeth. She's a knowledgable girl and clearly knows what she's doing aboard the ship. She listens to orders, provides input, and seems to revel in Jason's praise. However, the moment Reyna shows up in the conversation, Annabeth turns into a completely different person. She grins with a smile that could rival that of Reyna's smirk. Pure evil. Reyna and Annabeth are a duo you don't want to mess with, you will die.

 

Then there's Nico. Creepy, quiet, and prone to outburst with no warning. He will go for hours on end without saying a single word, then someone will say something completely innocent and he will go on a murderous rampage across the ship, tossing random sailors overboard and shouting at any innocent bystander within twenty feet.

 

Finally, that leaves Frank, Hazel, and Will who all seem ungodly normal in comparison with their crewmates. Frank is kind and thoughtful, Hazel doesn't seem to have any sort of ill intent, and Will is plain helpful. However, there is one common thread throughout the pirates, not a single one of them will go anywhere alone.

 

Rachel isn't sure if it's a defense mechanism or if they are simply that familiar with each other, but since the first day aboard the ship not even Reyna could be found alone, instead either in the company of Annabeth or Nico. Rachel is somewhat concerned and would be more so if Jason wasn't always with Reyna as well.

 

Ever since her issue of the prophecy, Jason follows Reyna around like a lost puppy, bombarding her with endless questions about what it could possibly mean. Rachel had to admit that she was impressed that Reyna hadn't killed him yet.

 

"Rachel," Jason calls and Rachel immediately snaps to attention. He's giving her the same look he'd give her when she broke something in the castle.

 

"What did I do now?" She asks, not in the mood for his temper. He glares harder, but the resounding laughter gives Rachel a good idea of who's in the room with him. Reyna's chuckling and leaning over the map table where she'd apparently been arguing with Jason.

 

"Y'know, I kinda like you," Reyna decides once she's stopped laughing. Rachel almost wants to be offended.

 

"Can we please get back on track?" Jason snaps, his glare resting on Reyna this time. Reyna's teasing demeanor turns on a dime and suddenly the captain is every bit the feared woman they met on the beach.

 

"We need to drop some things," Reyna turns back to the map, tracing an invisible route with her finger. "If we want to catch up with the ship before they reach Hade's island then we need to get this ship lighter, otherwise we'll be too late."

 

"We don't even know what he has in store for her," Jason interjects, "for all we know she could be dead long before we get there."

 

"Then we need to move faster," Reyna's scowl is something that any sane person would fear. "If she dies I will not take kindly to anyone aboard this ship."

 

"We are your allies, pirate," Rachel reminds and Reyna's glare snaps to rest on her.

 

"For now. However, I may have to rethink that in the future."

 

"Do you really think you can fight an entire ship of redcoats with six people?"

 

"I've done it with two." Reyna's voice doesn't leave any room for jest or bluff. Instead, she simply fixes Rachel with the most serious look she's received yet and that's saying something.

 

"Sorry to remind you, but your wife isn't here." Reyna surges forwards before Rachel can even finish her sentence. If it weren't for Jason intercepting her, she probably would've wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck.

 

"Cool it." Jason snarls, "both of you."

 

"If you make one more snide comment about Thalia you'll find yourself down with the sharks," Reyna growls.

 

"You mean I'll get to join your parents?"

 

"You fucking little-:"

 

"Rachel." Jason snaps. Rachel freezes, frozen in Jason's stormy gaze."You're not making this better. You need to cool it or we'll never even get close to the ship. The last thing we need right now is infighting. Now, if I catch you making one more jest you'll be stationed in the brig for the rest of the trip, is that clear?"

 

Rachel's stomach drops to her toes. Reyna's glare is much harsher than Jason's could ever be. Dark daggers scraping against her own eyes and piercing her soul.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Good."

 

Reyna's gaze doesn't leave her as Jason turns back to his map, she can't hear what he's saying. Instead, she's paralyzed in Reyna's gaze.

 


	11. Breathe in The Cold

Artemis is the moon, silver and silent, impervious to all the chaos surrounding her. Thundering waves licking hungrily at the sides of the ship and cold stars watching impassively from above. Artemis is simply the moon, bright and isolated, standing against the mast, perched far above the deck. Thalia watches quietly from her own perch on the ratlines.

 

“Why’re you up, Grace?” Artemis asks finally. Her voice is more hoarse than usual. She looks more tired than ever. Thalia sighs, letting her breath mist in the cold night air, watching it rise into the moonlight.

 

“Why are you?” she shoots back, but Artemis doesn’t smile, nor does she frown or glare, she simply watches her with that same impassive expression. Thalia sighs, letting her head droop against the ratlines. “Tomorrow night we’ll be there.”

 

Artemis hums softly, turning her gaze back towards the moon, not quite full but too bright to hide anything in its light. Artemis is as exposed as she’s ever been, vulnerable, pale, and weak. And she’s beautiful, she’s gorgeous, exposed and easy to take. For a second Thalia believes that she could actually kill Artemis, that a single breath breathed too hard could send her tumbling into the unforgiving sea. The dark waves would lick her skin and take her down, down, down, never to be seen again.

 

It’s a horrible thought, one that makes Thalia wish that she could just stop thinking. Thinking about life, about death, about whether it means anything at all because for the life of her it seems that death is imminent. Approaching upon the horizon and she has no choice other than to succumb to it because Artemis is just so damn sad. She’s the moon, and she’s mourning, and she’s beautiful. Beautiful like bloodstained glass in the sunlight. Gorgeous, but it’s so damn horrible. Horrible and bloody and evil. Evil. Artemis is evil.

 

Thalia is evil.

 

She’s going to give her life for the happiness of someone she barely knows. Why does that sound familiar?

 

“I owe you,” Artemis whispers. It scarcely makes it over the wind. Thalia does not reply, simply watches the moon’s reflection on the water. Artemis begins playing idly with the mast. “I owe you a choice. At the very least. You have done so much during these weeks despite both the circumstances and my initial treatment of you. I owe you so very much, but the only solace I can offer you is this, will you come quietly or fight?”

 

Thalia still doesn’t speak. The night is cold.

 

“I won’t think less of you for either choice.”

 

Thalia looks down at her hands. Milky pale skin, scarred knuckles, and freckled arms. Her fingers tremble in the moonlight, ghostly in their appearance.

 

“Artemis. Zoë ’s dead.”

 

Artemis doesn’t respond. The wind sweeps through the desolate deck. Thalia sighs.

 

“I’ve been dead. This whole time really. I can’t escape it forever, can I?”

 

Artemis’s intake of breath is sharp and so very, very human. It’s a sound that could potentially fool her into letting her guard down.

 

“I swear to you, I will get you out of there. I owe you that much. I won’t let him keep you-”

 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Thalia’s breath hurts, the words feel like acid in her mouth, burning and tearing. She can’t swallow it.

 

“Th-”

 

“Artemis.” When she turns to look at the goddess she’s met with the most vulnerable expression she’s seen from her. “I can accept my fate. But more than that, promise me that if I die, if he takes me, that you’ll find Reyna, and tell her that I did it willingly. That I gave myself up because I wanted to.”

 

Artemis’s face twists into one marred by grief. The grief of a mother losing its child, or a lover losing their loved one. Thalia can’t tell if it’s for her or Zoë.

 

“And if you’re still alive?” Artemis whispers. Thalia sighs.

 

“Don’t let her come after me alone. Don’t let her get herself hurt.”

 

“Do you honestly think she’ll believe me?” Artemis asks, “I took you from her, doesn’t matter what’s happened between that point and now, the moment I show up on her deck she’ll fight. She won’t believe a word of what I say.”

 

“I don’t care,” Thalia whispers. “Just don’t let her get hurt. Force her to comply, I don’t care. You can’t let Hades get his hands on her.” Her knuckles are clenching tighter and tighter around the ratlines. Ropes cut into the skin, turning milk to red, red, crimson blood. Moonlight stained, moonlight tainted by its sight. Thalia fights back the bitter tears. Her cheeks sting.

 

Crying. It’s too much of a human emotion, too much of a fickle thing. A childish dream in the grand scheme of it all. Prewritten destinies, prewritten fates. Is there any real choice. Thalia can barely breathe.

 

“I’ll do my best,” Artemis whispers finally, returning her gaze to the depths of the sea. Part of Thalia wonders if Artemis has ever wondered what death was like. Surely, with a life as long as hers, the thought has crossed once or twice. Thalia’s even died before, but she finds that the fear of it being permanent rather than being like the first time, lasting a few minutes at worst, that scares her a lot more. Death shouldn’t scare her, she’s seen the other side. But she can’t stop herself from seeing Hylla’s face over and over. Something so terribly sad that she doesn’t dare question. She doesn’t want that, can’t even begin to wonder what could’ve caused such an expression on someone who used to be so confident.

 

What changed? What happened? What did Hylla see? The questions are haunting. Thalia can’t breathe.

 

~~~

 

The sky is black and the world is on fire. Death is approaching, faster and faster, the ground cracks and crumbles to ash beneath his dark, dark feet. The sun is dead, dying, being strangled in war’s hold and Wisdom is screaming at the top of her lungs at Death’s poor judgment.

 

Storm watches it all, impassive, frozen, a statue on the horizon watching without feeling or opinion as the world goes to waste around her. Storm is dead. Storm is dead, dead, dea-

 

Reyna wakes.

 

~~~

 

They tell you not to play with fire because you’ll get burned, but what of playing with storms? Playing with stars? Moons? Skies? What of playing with them? What of playing with emotions, with bonds and relationship?. Forming companionships without thought of where they’ll lead. That’s a different kind of burn. One much slower, much more gradual, but a million times more painful. It seeps into your soul and tears it apart until all you’re left with is the broken scraps. Not even emptiness because you’ll constantly be reminded of what could’ve been had you been stronger. Had you been better? Had you been smarter? Had you just been?

 

It’s broken, table scraps, shards of glass. It means nothing because despite it all time cannot be altered. It just continues on and on into oblivion. It swallows itself up until there’s nothing left. Like the snail that had begun to eat his own tail.

 

Artemis hates the morning, the sweeping golden sun that paints the darkened waters gold and stains the wood of the deck red like blood. It turns Thalia’s eyes to a watery reflection of gold and for once she doesn’t see the fierce young woman who smiled in the face of death. She sees a small, ragged, tired child with a bony frame and bags beneath her eyes. The morning supposedly makes things more clear and Artemis has to begrudgingly agree.

 

The morning shows exactly what Thalia is. A child. A child, younger than Artemis’s youngest huntresses with none of their protection. She’s twenty at most, and Artemis has never even thought to wonder if perhaps that’s why she’s always been so between a hunter and a child. She’s neither. She doesn’t have eternity to wait, instead, all she has is likely thirty years at best. With the hades debacle more like four hours.

 

That can’t be something that she can deal with easily.

 

Death isn’t permanent, Artemis should know that better than anyone, but it still scares even the bravest of souls. There’s only so many times one can evade the depths of death.

 

Morning comes and it turns the world to shades of gold and crimson, staining the sky with a blush and Artemis’s hands a warm orange.

 

It turns the island on the horizon a deep blood red that Artemis can’t help but think is all too appropriate.

 

She can’t sense Zoë.

 

She feels cold.

 

Thalia’s eyes won’t leave the horizon. She seems so very small against the rising sun.

 

There’s not a single soul on deck that’s at ease. Tension runs through the air like an electric current, sending even the most experienced hunters into the edge of a panicked frenzy. Diane spends the duration of the final few hours of navigation chattering excitedly to Cynthia who simply watches the waves stoically.

 

Phoebe practically latches herself to Rebecca’s side.

 

MC and Harper have begun to tie and untie knots, their fingers moving progressively faster as the mass of land approaches.

 

Thalia still doesn’t move from her spot on the ratlines, the ropes have wrapped themselves around her body, suspending her like a doll, body limp and cold. The only indication that she’s still alive is the mist that raises from her mouth in steady intervals. Winter air fails to leave them with the introduction of the sun.

 

Thalia’s the first one off the boat. She jumps down from the ratlines, slides down the mast, trips over the deck and slides the final few feet down the bridge to land on her stomach. Artemis halfway wonders if the girl’s gotten to the point of panic where rational thought has left her, but when Thalia stands up on shore and glares at Hades’s welcome party with all the hate in the world, she knows that something much darker is compelling Thalia.

 

Something deadly.

 

“Thalia!” Artemis hears herself order, but she’s too later. Thalia’s hands are wrapped around one of Hades' goon’s throat and she’s growling like a wild animal. It takes four hunters and herself to pull her away. Despite the clear difference in power, Thalia’s eyes are lightning, flashing and crackling with an energy that reminds Artemis dully of the girl’s parentage.

 

They have to force Thalia to her knees to keep her from taking someone’s head off.

 

Hades' welcome party looks mildly impressed with her display of defiance.

 

“Thought you’d have better control over her,” the lead Fury sneers. Artemis bares her own teeth in response.

 

“I made no promises of how I’d bring her, simply that I would.” Her voice taste like acid.

 

Thalia snarls something that she doesn’t understand and lurches towards the fury. She growls back at the younger girl. Thalia spits at the fury.

 

“Thalia.” Artemis’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument. Thalia doesn’t appear to notice. She begins fighting harder, lashing out with all four limbs and teeth, biting and scratching at the hunters holding her arms like a wild animal.

 

Artemis doesn’t know what changed within the timespan of the night and morning, but this can’t be the same girl she had a philosophical discussion with earlier.

 

It’s not until she catches Thalia’s eye that she understands.

 

Thalia’s expression flashes with one of both defiance and deep determination, but hidden beneath that is not the fear that Artemis would expect. Instead, it’s a deep and angry loyalty, one that spurs something hot in Artemis’s chest.

 

Thalia’s putting on an act. She’s trying to make Hades believe that Artemis never even thought about crossing him in the first place. Clever girl, Artemis only regrets that she’ll probably never get to thank her for it.

 

Artemis grabs Thalia by the shoulders and hoists her up, she continues writing, but she notices that the blows aren’t nearly as hard as they could be. She takes them in stride and throws the girl over her shoulder, fixing the furies with her deepest glare.

 

“Take me to Hades.”

 

~~~

 

Hades Island is exactly as it was in Thalia’s dream. Tall, vaulted ceilings carved straight out of a cave. Large enough that a rugby team could play comfortably within the confines of the walls. It smells sharply of sea and rot, decay and death perfume the whole cave in such a thick stench it makes Thalia lightheaded, her continued thrashing probably doesn’t help.

 

The least she could do Artemis is give her one last opportunity to get it all done smoothly. One last chance to complete the trade without any potential backstabbing. Given that they’re dealing with pirates that’s unlikely, but any sort of chance is a better one.

 

As they walk Thalia is faced with the fact that death is more than just figuratively approaching now, it quite literally is. Hades is a ruthless man, one that nearly made Reyna kill her just a few years ago. She hasn’t forgotten the angered captains face, no matter how much she wishes she had. Hades has been hunting for her for years and now he finally has her.

 

Thalia’s stomach nearly gives up what little it has in it.

 

The furies escort them down winding path after winding path. Thalia hopes that Artemis has a better sense of direction than she does because she lost track within the first two minutes of walking. The scent of salt gets stronger and stronger, slowly overtaking the scent of rot and is Thalia was lightheaded before now she’s officially somewhere close to high.

 

Everything is salt, she can taste it on her very breath and her vision is swimming, but deeper still they trek until the salt to has left them behind. The air turns into the scent of deep, deep, molten earth. Sharp and warm in its scent, turning the world away from it’s swimming blackness back into the dimly lit passages of caves.

 

Deeper still.

 

Deeper still.

 

Deeper.

 

Deep.

 

deep.

 

deep

 

When they finally reach the bottom they’re greeted with a scene straight out of Thalia’s worst nightmares. A girl stands alone upon a stone dais, crafted perfectly out of stone, so very human, so very alive. Something searing hot and sharp latches itself into thalia’s belly button. She cries out and in surprise from the noise, Artemis drops her.

 

The result is almost instantaneous. Thalia begins sliding forward across the ground like a piece of iron being drawn to a magnet. Artemis grabs Thalia’s ankle, but the force is so strong it feels like Artemis is going to pull her foot off. Thalia’s actually being lifted off the ground by the sheer force of it. Her headaches like an anvil being pounded again and again. She can hardly hear Artemis’s shouting over it.

 

“Where’s Zoë ?!” It’s a shrill and harsh noise, like fingernails on a chalkboard. It hurts Thalia’s ears, but the force pulling her towards the girl in the stone is soon pulling her protests with it too, it feels like the very words are being tugged from her lips, leaving her unable to speak, to move. The only thing keeping her from falling straight into the stone dais is Artemis’s hand clenched around her ankle.

 

“Ah, yes, Artemis. Took you long Enough.”

 

The voice is like a baritone saxophone became sentient. Deep and grating on thalia’s ears. She can hardly see the man through her squinted eyes but she makes out a slightly taller, slightly less skinny Nico glaring at Artemis. He’s holding something very wet at his ankle, holding it loosely by a rope, like a dog who disobeyed him one too many times.

 

“Hades.” Artemis’s voice is thunder, shaking the cavern like the earth itself is afraid of her. Hades’s expression darkens. “I have my end of the bargain, now release my lieutenant.”

 

Hades doesn’t move, only his eyes seem to even acknowledge Thalia’s existence, trained on her like she’s some sort of prized animal in a zoo. The force pulling at her seems to get stronger. She can feet Artemis’s fingers sliding down her ankle.

 

“Let go of the girl Artemis,” Hades hisses. Artemis’s grip tightens. Thalia would probably be in a lot more pain if it didn’t feel like someone was trying to rip out her belly button with a fish hook.

 

“Not until you’ve given me my lieutenant.”

 

“We must talk conditions,” Hades voice is calm, but beneath it is a somberness that or some reason reminds Thalia of Hylla. “We cannot do that until Ms. Grace is in her proper place.”

 

“Hades. Give. Me. My. Lieutenant.” Artemis’s form is spilling out rays of light, Thalia’s sure that if she looked at her she’d probably be in a lot of pain, but she finds that her eyes are beginning to be pulled into the top of her head.

 

There’s the rustling of fabric and something makes a wet sound on the floor. Artemis makes a noise that Thalia’s never heard before, a harsh, grating gasp like someone in immense pain. The pressure around Thalia’s ankle is released and the next thing she knows she’s laying on the stone dais.

 

Hades doesn’t laugh, nor does he celebrate like some sort of cartoon villain. Slowly, the intense pressure filling her body is gone and she’s left only with a dull ache in her ankle where Artemis had been holding her. She glances back to see Artemis cradling the wet thing that Hades had been holding earlier. It takes her a solid five seconds for Thalia to recognize it as a person, wrapped in cheap cloth and beaten beyond the point of recognition.

 

Hades doesn’t look happy, he doesn’t look proud or triumphant, in fact, he’s looking at Thalia with this expression of deep pity that makes her feel more afraid than she ever has in her life. Slowly, Thalia rises to her feet.

 

“What the hell was that about?!” she finds her voice has returned. Hades slowly shakes his head.

 

“You certainly are my brother’s child,” Hades murmurs, something in Thalia’s spine breaks.

 

“Don’t you dare compare me to that fucking-” She tries to step outside the stone dais and pain instantly shoots up her right leg. She screams. Not a yelp of pain, a loud, girlish scream. Her entire body convulses with the shock of it, she can’t breathe, can’t see straight, she falls to her knees. Hades’s expression doesn’t waver.

 

“I didn’t say you were anything like him,” is all he says, his eyes are so damn similar to Nico’s, she feels sick.

 

“What the hell did you do?!” Artemis has finally been shaken from Zoë long enough to notice Thalia’s predicament. Her gaze has settled on the god of death with such a murderous rage that Thalia can’t even begin to comprehend the full implications of it. Hades doesn’t meet her eyes.

 

“A long time ago a punishment was made by mother earth in exchange for our lives to never die out. In order for the matriarchs to continue to exist one of the first bloodline’s descendants would always have to remain trapped within this stone tomb.” Hades' gaze burns into Thalia’s body, her toes feet terribly cold.

 

“What?” Artemis roars, standing to her full height, Zoë lay unmoving at her goddess’s feet. Hades expression is laced with a sorrow that Thalia can’t begin to express. She pushes herself to her feet, wincing the entire way.

 

“The-the first bloodlines?” her voice sounds weak to her own ears. Hades nods.

“Myself, Poseidon, and Zeus. One of our children would always have to bear the curse. Poseidon bore it for a century, I bore it throughout several different children over the course of three. Zeus has not suffered a single year.” Hades eyes have turned from sad to pure rage. Thalia can’t feel her feet.

 

“S-Suffered?” Thalia sneaks a glance down at her feet and tries not to scream again. Her boots have turned to pure stone. She whips right to look at the statue of the little girl, her shoes suddenly look a lot more colorful.

 

“Little bits of our power make homes in our children. As much as Zeus would like to deny it, he does need his children. Without them, the bloodline will not carry on, and you are Zeus’s only current female heir, making your sacrifice all the more fitting. Without you, there is no new Zeus when this one dies. No one to carry on the bloodline.”

 

“You’re going to freeze the daughter of a madman in stone?!” Artemis’s voice has taken on a growling quality that Thalia associates with big cats. When she looks back at the goddess she finds the hair on her head has begun to stand up. Hades does not look surprised.

 

“I’ve watched my children suffer for the past three centuries, Artemis, it’s his turn to suffer.” Artemis’s glare doesn’t soften.

 

“You’re just as bad.”

 

“I’m doing what I have to.” Hades’s hackles are rising. Thalia can’t feel her ankles anymore and the numbness is creeping up her calves.

 

“You’re a sick, twisted-”

 

“Stop!” Thalia shouts, and it hurts like hell, but she can’t just watch this happen. Artemis and Hades both whip their gazes towards her, surprised that she’d have the audacity to interrupt them.

 

“This is not what you came here for,” she fixes Artemis with the angriest glare she can but the pain creeping up her legs makes it hard. She whips her glare onto Hades.

 

“Give her, her fucking girlfriend back and then you-” she looks back at Artemis. “You get the fuck out of here.”

 

“Thalia are you-” Artemis starts, but there's a sort of admiration that lights up Hades’s eyes.

 

“Ms. Grace, are you telling me that you’re willingly accepting this?” Hades asks. Thalia’s glare sharpens.

 

“Hell fucking no!” She shouts, then regrets it. Pain shoots up her legs again, she’d accidentally touched the edge of the barrier again, she would’ve fallen to her knees again if her knees could bend. “I- I accept that there are other people with more pressing concerns at the moment, but don’t think for a second that means that I want to die, bucko. I want to go home! I want to meet my brother, and marry my girlfriend and grow old and die of scurvy at an old age with her by my side! I want to live the rest of my life! But that doesn’t mean that I’m so damn selfish that when there’s someone else’s I could trade it for right now I won’t. So give her, her FUCKING girlfriend back before I turn into human statue!”

 

Thalia’s voice is raw and as the numbness begins to creep up her torso she finds it’s getting harder to breathe. Beside her, the girl’s statue sinks to her now unfrozen knees.

 

Artemis’s expression is a mix of anger, grief, and desperation all rolled into one. Hades’s is one of both curiosity and that admiration she saw earlier.

 

“You truly are your father’s child,” he decides and Thalia’s face is probably red with rage, but before she can start shouting again he finishes his sentence. “Absolutely nothing like him.”

 

He raises a single hand and points it at Zoë ’s limp, wet body. She gasps, a horrible, rattling noise that makes everything in Thalia’s chest want to jump out of it.

 

Artemis expression is torn between comforting the now breathing Zoë and launching herself at Hades in retribution for his crimes. Thalia pleads with herself that she’ll just go back to Zoë. When Zoë begins coughing and hacking up mouthful after mouthful of water, Artemis does succumb to her. Dropping to her knees beside Zoë and rubbing tight circles into her back.

 

Zoë curls one hand into a fist in Artemis’s, clutching on in, what now Thalia finally understands as, a deathgrip.

 

Hades expression doesn’t change, instead, he simply nods.

 

“Get out of here Artemis. Take your lieutenant and run. I will not take kindly to you reappearing.”

 

Artemis’s face twists into one of rage, she whirls as if to attack him, but in the same instant Zoë ’s hand yanks on Artemis’s. She coughs up another mouthful of water and whispers through shaking lips.

 

“No.” it’s the softest sound Thalia’s ever heard.

 

Her chest is so very cold. She can’t hear her own heartbeat, she can’t even tell if she’s breathing. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

 

“Leave.” Hades’s voice is thick with melancholy. Artemis finally does just that, lifts Zoë up in her arms as if she’s carrying the most valuable thing in the world and, with one final glance back at Thalia, who can begin to feel her throat freezing up, starts up the passage they came from.

 

She stops in the doorway but doesn’t look back.

 

“I hope you know I will not forgive this.”

 

Artemis’s voice is colder than the stone on Thalia’s lips.

 

Hades’s gaze is fixed on Thalia’s.

 

“I know.”

 

The stone consumes Thalia’s eyes.

 

She can’t breathe. Can’t see. She’s gone, lost, frozen, nothing.

 

She’s nothing.

 

Stone.

 

Cold.

 

No heartbeat.

 

No feeling.

 

No fear.

 

No regret.

 

Rest.

 

Sleep.

 

It’s coaxing Thalia like a warm bath. She can hardly keep her thoughts together.

 

Where is she again? Why is she fighting?

 

It’s so very cold.

 

Just give in.

 

Rest.

 

Sleep.

 

Breathe.


	12. Empty and Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2018, going back to school is going to kill me. help.

The world is grey, upside down, and shaking violently from side to side like a ship on rough seas in the middle of a hurricane. Reyna is immediately thrown from her resting place, against the ceiling, into the nearest piece of furniture before she can ever begin to process what the living hell is going on. Which of course leads her to processing one key detail: pain. A lot of pain. It burns in her chest telling her immediately she’s at least bruised if not broken her ribs and another sensation of lightness filing her head tells her she’s hit it and probably pretty badly. Where the hell she is, comes as a very distant second thought, the immediate problem of agony radiating from her whole body taking first priority.

 

“What the fuck,” she hears herself groan before she’s thrown across the room once again to land this time on her back, she actually hears something in her back crack. “Shit!”

 

“Yeah, the motion is quite sickening,” the voice comes from seemingly nowhere given Reyna can’t see anything other than her clenched eyelids, but she’d recognize it anywhere. With more shock than anything else, her eyes fly open only to meet dead blue ones.

 

Her stomach drops to her toes and not just because gravity has changed once again.

 

Thalia’s skin is pale and hollow as if Reyna’s looking at someone carved from marble, not a person but rather a statue. A statue with cracked lips and dead, dead blue eyes. Eyes that once filled everything with emotion and a life that seemed much too big for such a person to contain, now fall on Reyna with nothing more than forgotten color. Blue, not storm, not electric, there is no life left in them and Reyna feels sick just looking at them. Gravity changes again and she goes flying this time directly past Thalia who appears unaffected by the constantly shifting ship around her as her feet remain glued perfectly to the ground.

 

Her expression doesn’t change and she gives no hint that she even recognizes Reyna, much less is glad to see her. She looks as if she can’t seem to grasp the concept of more than one facial expression, and that expression is simply a somberness that Reyna’s only ever seen on one face before. Hylla’s.

 

“Thalia what…. What happened?” Her voice sounds choked to herself but whether that’s to do with the emotional impact or the fact her face had just been slammed against a wooden floorboard is anyone’s guess. Thalia’s expression doesn’t change and her dead eyes simply follow her movements with a lazy sort of obligation, more like she feels she should be doing it rather than wanting to.

 

“A very predictable question. That’s fair, you’ve always been predictable,” there’s no snark in her voice, no teasing, no sarcasm, but no ill intent or anger either. Her voice is so level and monotone it physically feels  _ wrong _ . Reyna feels gravity pulling away again and lashes out for something to grip onto. Her hand makes contact with Thalia’s and suddenly she’s in an entirely different location.

 

\

 

Aboard a ship she only vaguely recognizes as the Hunter ship she watches the goddess Artemis pace back and forth in her chambers, fists balled at her sides and shoulders rising and falling in barely contained breaths. Her form continues shimmering and emitting light as if she’s some sort of broken gas bulb. A few feet away a woman she’s never seen before lays on the Captain’s bed, watching Artemis with something between concern and pain. Her face is horribly bruised and body bound in bandages so tightly Reyna would be surprised if the girl could breathe in that thing.

 

“We have to go back,” Artemis growls, her throat is gravely and her voice has dropped to a tone that is in no way human, Reyna can feel the blood in her veins growing cold. Go back for who? For what?

 

“M’lady,” the girl’s voice is its own special version of gravelly, a tone that hurts to listen to because it’s just so damn weak and so very vulnerable, however at the same time there’s a quiet power in the way she raises her head towards the goddess, as if she has nothing to fear from the woman pacing around like a caged tiger. However, miraculously, the girl’s voice softens literally everything about Artemis, her shoulders drop, her face turns from a grimace to a look of concern, and the flickering form turns solid once more and she looks at the girl with more tenderness than Reyna can begin to process from a woman who probably killed Thalia.

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this in front of you, you’ve had enough trauma-” Artemis begins, running a hand worriedly back through her hair. The other girl simply raises her hand placatingly towards Artemis. Artemis takes a few steps forward and takes it, lowering herself to sit on the edge of the bed. The other girl clutches the goddess’s hand like a lifeline.

 

“My lady,” she begins once more. Artemis’s expression softens at the term, “that girl trusted thee. She, very clearly, trusted thy to go and find her Captain. She trusted thy to come back for her, not to save her own skin, but because she knew what kind of person thou is. She trusted thee enough not to go right back in, swords drawn, and get thine killed. She trusted thee to find her Captain and then come back with more forces to bring that man to justice. So thy will not go back, thy will find her Captain.”

 

Reyna had to admit the (author admits very poorly written because FINDING THE RULES FOR THY, THEE, AND THOU IS SURPRISINGLY HARD OKAY AND VERY CONFUSING) Shakespeare did add a bit of a dramatic flair to the girl’s speech and also draw the question of why the hell she was talking like that, but before she could draw on that question for longer Artemis’s shoulders dropped along with her head into the other girl’s.

 

“She’s a child Zoë, a child trusting her fate to people who know better than anyone that fate is unforgiving and unwise. Fate is a child who throws tantrums and fits because only what they want can happen, there is no room to change it, only to suffer in it. She wants me to save her, and I do not know if fate will allow me to.”

 

“Then fight them. We have bested fate before,” Zoë reminds Artemis who simply shakes her head.

 

“And look how many we lost because of that?” Zoë reaches up with one bandaged hand and touches Artemis’s face, there’s a tenderness there that Reyna is not unfamiliar with, but it surprises her all the same. Artemis raises her face just a little bit and smiles softly at Zoë, reaching up to touch the hand resting against her cheek. Zoë smiles back, but then winces, closing her eyes in pain. Artemis’s smile drops and she grips Zoë’s hand just a bit tighter.

 

“You shouldn’t strain yourself, you’ve been through enough over the past couple months,” Artemis’s voice has gone back to that tender one that makes Reyna remember a similarly bandaged Thalia in a similar bed. Her throat feels tight. Zoë cracks open her eyes and although she looks as if she wants to argue there’s a fatigue that Reyna can almost see wrapping its way around her.

 

“We will go back for her Artemis,” Zoë whispers and Artemis nods slowly, her expression has latched onto Reyna’s as if she can see her. Her blood begins pounding in her ears. Glowing silver eyes like the moon itself is glaring her down.

 

/

 

Her eyes snap open to meet dead blue ones. Thalia’s expression hasn’t changed, but the boat has stopped rocking and the pain has left Reyna’s body. She stumbles back, away from Thalia who simply watches her, no words spoken, no movements made. Reyna can hardly breathe. Where is she? What did she just see?!

 

“Wha-What the hell?!” She manages and the very corners of Thalia’s mouth twitch as if she wants to smile but has forgotten the expression.

 

“Artemis will find you, let her speak.” Thalia’s voice isn’t commanding, but it’s not a request either. Reyna blinks owlishly.

 

“Art- what she-she kidnapped you!” She shouts at Thalia. Thalia doesn’t even blink.

 

“So did you.”

 

Reyna stares at her, unable to form an argument. There’s something terribly wrong here, something so very, horribly, horribly wrong with the way Thalia looks at her without any semblance of affection. The way that there’s no joy in her cheeks, no life in her eyes. No life. Dead. Thalia is dead. Reyna’s stomach makes a backflip up into her throat along with her heart.

 

“What did she do to you…?” it’s such a soft and horrified question like she’s afraid of anyone hearing it. Thalia’s expression doesn’t change, but she does incline her head ever so slightly. Looking at Reyna directly for the first time since she arrived where she guesses is limbo, like where she met Hylla before. Thalia’s dead eyes drag themselves up to her own.

 

“She did nothing,” Thalia says so very softly, “she fought for who she loved, and I was simply a casualty. It’s alright, I went willingly.”

 

“You-” Reyna sputters, but suddenly the breath is sucked from her lungs and the words from her lips. She falls to her knees and Thalia continues watching her with that impassive face. 

 

“I went willingly,” she repeats as Reyna gasps for breath. She comes to the horrified realization that Thalia’s not breathing. “She didn’t do anything we wouldn’t have in her place. Just listen to her when she comes, what she says is the truth.”

  
  


~

  
  


She wakes with a start. Air rushing into her lungs and body startling upwards so fast that she doesn’t have time to stop herself from ramming into the cabin ceiling. As it is she probably created a dent in the wood or at least one in her forehead. Breath shakes in her throat and she has to cough at least a good dozen times in order to breathe again properly.

 

“You okay up there?” Will’s voice calls from below and she can only manage a gasped whisper in response. What the living hell just happened? There’s the sound of movement and wood creaking before a blonde head pops up over the side of the bed, Will’s eyebrows knit in concentration of not falling off of Annabeth’s bed which he’s currently perched on. Reyna rubs her face, trying to clear dead blue eyes from her vision.

 

“Reyna?” he asks, worry clear in his voice. Reyna focuses on forcing her lungs to take up a rhythm. In for seven seconds, out for five, in seven, out five. Her vision starts clearing.

 

“I need to talk to Jason and Rachel.”

 

“What?” Will insists, eyebrows drew further together until they begin to resemble a couple of angry caterpillars headbutting. 

 

“Now, bring them here than clear out the cabin, I don’t have time to explain,” Reyna’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument but when she sits up to begin pulling on her peg leg her head begins throbbing badly, sending her right back down on the bed.

 

“Captain, I really think you should slow down-” Will starts, reaching up as if to look at her forehead but she flinches away instinctively. Despite both hers and Will’s best efforts the instinct to curl into a ball when he touched her was still very much present. So much so she’d taken to seeing the British medic instead when her leg was acting up. Will tried not to take it personally.

 

“I need to see them!” she snaps at him, gripping the sheets of the bed as she sits back up. “That’s an order, William.”

 

Will’s face winces at the use of his full name and he nods slowly, backing down to the floor and exiting the cabin without further comment. Reyna feels this horrible building pressure in her chest growing by the second until she can scarcely feel anything else, pounding head included.  _ Thalia is dead. Thalia is dead. Thalia is dead. _ It’s a mantra running constantly through her head like a radio broadcast.

 

She forces her limbs to move and lower herself to the floor, deciding that the leg is too much of a hassle currently and she doesn’t have the time for it. Pounding comes from the hallway and Reyna’s scarcely leaned back against the bedpost before the door burst open, Will marching in with Jason, Rachel, Nico, and a very grumpy looking Annabeth in tow, all of which begin shouting questions before she can even begin to explain.

 

“Why aren’t you wearing your leg!” William scolds more than anything else.

 

“What happened?” Jason questions.

 

“What did you see?” Rachel’s voice is stern and her eyes are steel, boring into her skin.

 

“What the hell is this ‘bloodlines’ mess these two keep going on about?” Nico demands.

 

“What the bloody hell is going on?!” Annabeth finishes. Her voice is thick with a classic posh British accent, the way it usually gets whenever Percy or piper did something to annoy her. Reyna holds up a hand to stop the torrent of questions but no one looks happy about it. With her other hand, she massages her forehead.

 

“You didn’t tell them about the bloodlines?” She whispers to Jason, deciding not to even acknowledge the other questions until her crewmates are up to speed.

 

“Well I assumed you would,” Jason mutters, face twisting into one of the first real scowls he’s used towards her. It’s mildly impressive. “They’re not my crew.”

 

“But you know more than I do,” Reyna reminds him, “and you grew up with this shit, I had it barfed on me about a week and a half ago without any warning, for the fact of the matter I’m processing it!”

 

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Can we get to the fucking point already?! What did you see?”

 

Reyna wants so badly to fix that ever more annoying ginger with an insult so badly but finds that the energy just isn’t there right now. So instead she just closes her eyes and presses her hands into her temples.

 

“Thalia’s….” her voice cracks so very, very horribly and suddenly Reyna feels as if she can’t breathe again. She presses her lips together and swallows back her grief, not entirely sure if she’s even correct in her assumption of that being purgatory. “Thalia’s dead. She’s dead and Artemis is on her way.”

 

Jason and Rachel’s faces are thunderstruck, horror turning the skin around their eyes and cheeks a milky color that reminds Reyna too much of Thalia’s marble-like skin. Annabeth, Will, and Nico don’t look quite so convinced. More confused than anything else.

 

“Bloodlines?” Nico questions again and Annabeth fixes him with her best death glare.

 

“The more important question is how the hell would you know that? Assuming you’re correct,” She shifts her glare from Nico to Reyna, arms crossing in front of her chest. Will remains silent, questioning gaze boring into Reyna’s. Suddenly she doesn’t have the energy to even stand anymore and simply slides down the bedpost to the floor, dignity abandoned the moment she saw cold, dead eyes.

 

“I went back there, back to… that place..” she doesn’t offer the land’s name, but both Rachel and Jason nod as if they know exactly what she’s talking about. Annabeth’s glare hardens and Will remains with that questioning look. Nico however, has suddenly gone paler than usual, a question in his gaze and hand clutched to his chest.

 

“She was there, but she was… wrong. Dead. There was… nothing… no life in her eyes… no color in her face. She didn’t have a wound, not like Hylla did, but the way that she looked at me… as if I meant nothing… I knew..” her gaze suddenly feels just as heavy as the rest of her body and so she drops it down to the floor as well, she can still feel the other’s gazes but the prospect of looking up at them is too much.

 

“And Artemis?” Jason asks, but there’s the sound of someone clapping their hands together.

 

“Hang on, are we basing our actual ideas about the health of one of our crew members, who we haven’t seen hide nor tail of for almost a month now, on a dream?!” Annabeth’s voice is high and incredulous.

 

“She’s right,” Nico whispers and Reyna whips her head up, looking on as Nico’s hands have begun trembling and his shoulders have hunched in on himself. Everyone’s gazes burning into him. “I can’t… I can’t feel her anymore… it’s…. Gone.”

 

_ Hades. God of death _ . Reyna vaguely remembers the statement from Jason at some point. Nico’s father. Thalia’s captor. Sudden rage, hot and angry, explodes through her veins. Thalia’s killer. Not Artemis, Hades. She doesn’t know how she knows, but the sureness of it, the logic, makes her entire body burn like fire. Jason’s hands ball at his sides.

 

“Of course, the curse-”

 

“I’m sorry, did you not inform me of some other crucial information, pretty boy?!” She snaps at Jason who winces.

 

“I just… I didn’t think it would matter because I assumed that Hades was just like Zeus and didn’t care about his children.”

 

“I’m sorry, but what the literal Hell are you people talking about?!” Annabeth shouts, hand pounding against the wall and steely gaze boring into Jason like a sniper with a target. He fidgets with his collar.

 

“I uh… well….” he begins and Reyna sighs, pushing herself back up.

 

“Just start explaining, sparky, and do it quickly, I need a drink.”

  
  


~ **☾** ~

  
  


Artemis had lost a lot in her life, but the moment she turned around to see the girl- the child (she still had to remind herself of that sometimes, that Thalia was simply a child caught up in her parent’s war) only to be greeted by a stone statue with an expression of pure melancholy she felt a horrible spike driven directly through her chest.

 

It was the second most horrible pains she’d ever felt, the first only being seeing Zoë, the woman she’d spent all of her very, very long life with, crumpled at her feet, battered and bruised beyond recognition. Aphrodite had once told Artemis that she’d make her feel more pain than she’d ever caused anyone in her life, and if she didn’t believe it then she did now. That feeling of every nerve ending in her body turning to fire was unbearable. Zoë’s weak gaze when she picked her up like she simply couldn’t muster the energy to recognize her, it felt like the entire world had stopped moving. She couldn’t breathe, she was suffocating on the ache in her chest that only seemed to grow when she got aboard her ship and was immediately mobbed by concerned hunters.

 

Zoë had long since fallen asleep once more in her arms, head falling against her chest and thudding there with each and every step. A reminder that she was _ real _ . That she was  _ alive _ . It set Artemis’s blood on fire in a completely different way. It had been a tense first two days, constant medical check-ups, carefully avoiding Hades coastline while also staying close enough to keep an eye on the island, and Zoë not responding to anything anyone did to her. She simply slept like a rock, not even like she used to. Zoë always slept on her side, sleeping on her back made her feel too vulnerable and sleeping on her stomach made her feel like she was falling. Zoë snored, not loudly, but a quiet snore that sounded like tiny puffs of air. Now Zoë did neither. She slept soundlessly on her back, pale and trembling every so often. All Artemis could do was hold her and pray to anything and everything that it would pass. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Hades claiming her beloved another time.

 

Beloved. Thalia really had changed the way she looked at her lieutenant. Where used to simply be an admiration for the other girl now burned something deeper, or perhaps it had been there much longer, and Artemis simply hadn’t noticed? It definitely hadn’t been there when she first met Zoë, that was far too long ago and she would’ve noticed if it had been an initial reaction to seeing the girl, but perhaps it came along a lot more gradually. Like some sort of shadow creeping upon her. It took over slowly, so slowly that she never really noticed a difference.

 

Now she did. And it scared the life out of her.

 

Zoë woke up on the third day, eyes blinking slowly and fixing on Artemis with an expression of fondness that set Artemis’s chest on fire once again. Artemis really didn’t do anything that day other than dote on Zoë’s every need, no matter how many times the other girl complained. She told Zoë stories of her hunter’s hijinks in her absence and Zoë simply laughed, swearing that she’d scold Diana later.

 

She told her of Thalia, how she frustrated her to no end while at the same time became one of the only reasons she remained sane during Zoë’s absence. Zoë promised that they would get her back, but they needed to follow Thalia’s instructions first. There was no point in losing more hunters than they had to. Hades island would not be an easy place to conquer given his endless supply of undead soldiers and winding tunnels that reached deep into the earth.

 

And Artemis found that having Zoë back was everything she had thought it was, but now there was a different hole, one that felt not quite the same as Zoë’s did, but just as encompassing. She kept expecting Thalia to come barging into her cabin, shouting that she hadn’t slept in three days she needed to get her shit together. Instead, there was Zoë, looking up at her with warm dark eyes and gently insisting that she lay down next to her. She waited for Thalia to begin a shouting contest with Diana which used to happen daily and instead finds Diana playing poker with a handful of other hunters looking vaguely like she missed her shouting partner.

 

She would expect Thalia to begin teasing her mercilessly on her ‘unadmitted’ crush on her lieutenant and instead found her lieutenant looking at her with an expression that made every part of her body want to scream. It was a different hole to Zoë’s but is more surprised her that it was so large than anything else. It got to the point where she’d hear someone shouting in the hall and immediately expect Thalia to come running around the corner. Where she expected bright blue eyes and a devilish grin to make her want to shout.

 

And she was left with no one there and an empty place at the table where neither Zoë nor Thalia could sit.


	13. Warning Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block sucks ass and this isn't even that good for something that took me three weeks to write, but whatever, I give up at this point. I think we're getting close to the end here anyway. ANYHOW, there are a couple big bombshells in this chapter, so prepare yourselves. -M

Bianca wakes to the color blue.

 

Bright, pulsating with electricity and at the same time so devoid of emotion it sends shivers up her spine. She blinks once, twice, only coming to a realization of what she’s seeing after the third. Eyes, a pair of electric blue eyes staring down at her with some sort of morbid curiosity she finds all too familiar for some reason.

 

“Who-” she starts before realizing where she is, not her Father’s cave, and not in Limbo, but rather the empty cabin of a ship, large four poster bed and desk being the only other two things in the room. Grey sunlight streams through the window onto deep red carpet, bleaching the floorboards to a nearly white color. The world isn’t quite the grey it is in Limbo, but too dull to be real, and the girl looking at her most certainly isn’t alive.

 

She’s pale, frighteningly so, with the same somber expression that all souls lost to Limbo adopt at some point. Her eyes already lost to the emotionless void, and hair limp and dull around her face. However, she recognizes that there is no noticeable sign of trauma to her body, no gaping wounds or diseased smell pouring from her mouth, instead, she appears almost frighteningly normal, healthy even. If Bianca didn’t know to look for the signs she might not even notice the girl was dead.

 

“Where the heck…?” she leaves the question hanging. The girl doesn’t answer for a moment, she appears older than her, probably in her early twenties. She cocks her head slowly, like a dog registering something. Then she settles herself back against the wall.

 

 

“A place not quite in Limbo, and not quite in life.” She answers. Her voice is oddly clear for someone who should be speaking through several layers of macabre distortion.

 

“Great…” Bianca finds herself muttering and glancing out the window, only to find a barren white landscape stretching as far as the eye can see. “As if it weren’t already too complicated.”

 

The older girl snorts, it’s not a sound of humor, but rather a begrudging agreement. She sighs and pops her neck as if this is perfectly normal. Unfortunately for Bianca, it is.

 

“Just cut to the chase, what do you want from me,” she snaps. The other girl simply gives her a bemused look, eyebrow rising steadily up her forehead.

 

“What makes you think I want anything from you?” she asks and Bianca rolls her eyes.

 

“Because otherwise, I would be alive right now enjoying my father’s cave and pretending none of this ever happened.” She declares. The other girl doesn’t seem to fully comprehend her words but apparently decides against arguing as she simply shrugs at her.

 

“Well, shortened version is: you need to get your ass out of Hades’ lair and fast.” the girl decides and Bianca blinks slowly, once again unable to fully comprehend the woman in front of her.

 

“Why…?” she lets the question hang in the air. The older girl’s dead eyes don’t quite roll, but they do  _something_  in exasperation that Bianca can’t fully describe.

 

“Because if you don’t, your new life will be short-lived, and I’d like to believe that my little sacrifice can not be in vain.” the girl doesn’t sound all that committed to the idea, but Bianca finally has a grasp on who is in front of her.

 

“Thalia Grace?” she questions, eyebrows rising to her hairline. The other girl doesn’t seem to care about being recognized.

 

“Look, kid, I’m just trying to help here. If you’d rather stay with your father, that’s your business, but I’m just saying, you’ve got a brother out there who’s been searching for you since he was ten.”

 

Bianca’s face must be priceless because the one Thalia makes in response is almost amused.

 

“You know Nico?!” She splutters. Thalia’s mouth twitches ever so slightly like she almost remembered how to smile.

 

“I’ve known him since I was thirteen,” she murmurs and Bianca takes a step back, this girl, this woman is supposed to be dead, supposed to be the answer to her eternal imprisonment in a solitary and emotionless hell. She’s supposed to just be a silent face that she doesn’t have to put further thought into, but the person looking back at her, is real, and that scares her more than anything.

 

“Why should I even leave in the first place? Assuming your little ‘goddess’ could come back for an attack, why would she?” Bianca’s words are meant to be scornful, to bite and tear, but Thalia doesn’t even look like she thinks it’s a question.

 

“Because Artemis is, among many other things, an overzealous and emotionally driven person who relies on her connection to other living beings to keep her from blowing a hole in the sea.”

 

Bianca blinks slowly. “What does that even mean?”

 

“It means,” Thalia says, beginning to look a bit exasperated, “she will do anything for those she has deemed worthy of her trust and companionship. While that might be an admirable trait, it’s also her greatest weakness as your father already sought with her lieutenant. However, assuming she’s as powerful as she says, she’ll come back as soon as she’s carried out my requests.”

 

Bianca blinks again, confusion has never felt so much like a state of being as it does now, “So you’re telling me to run away from my father because you believe that your emotionally charged goddess is going to come back, guns blazing, for an attack against my father?”

 

Thalia sighs, eyes finally removing themselves from their dead gaze on Bianca to roll, for the first time since appearing, she looks almost alive. Then her eyes settle back on Bianca’s face and it’s gone. Dead.

 

“You certainly sound like your brother,” she grumbles and stands from her position beside the bed, “Look, it’s your choice kid, but I’ve given you your warning, if you want to die with your father, it’s your loss.”

 

And with that she begins to fade, like a photograph developing in reverse the entire room begins to bleed white, turning from defined shapes to fuzzy shadows and faded colors into a solid white. Thalia’s face is the last thing to leave, a pair of solid blue eyes are the last thing she sees before it’s all white.

 

Then she wakes.

 

~☾~

 

The water is still. Impassive, a clear sheen of grey stretching for miles and miles in all directions, and even with her improved eyesight, Artemis can see there is nothing. Just empty grey water. There are no waves, no wind, just a cloudy grey sky.

 

The rain doesn’t come until around midday, pouring in torrents onto the deck until the entire crew is forced to take shelter below. Despite the rain, the wind doesn’t return, and the water is as still as ever, leaving them alone in the desolate sea.

 

Zoë’s face is brilliant in the lamplight, it’s been just over a week since her recovery from Hades’s lair, and with the help of Artemis’s powers, she’s nearly back to full health. Bruises and cuts long since healed, and the bones in her spine have shifted back into place, all that’s left is for her to recover some of her weight and strength. As it is, Artemis still fears a wind blown too hard would send the poor girl flying.

 

In the Captain’s quarters, however, the only sound being the rain steadily pounding the deck and Zoë’s breathing, Artemis finds a peace she hasn’t seen in months. It’s in Zoë’s tender expression and the gentle breath on the back of her neck. It's in the smell of sea and stars emanating from her life partner. There’s peace in the way her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm.

 

Artemis has missed this peace. She wants nothing more than to lay against her partner and just relish herself in the way she smells like nighttime and rain. She wants to be able to wrap her fingers in Zoë’s silken hair and watch her cheeks rise into that smile that’s so rare, but so very beautiful. So she sinks into the bed and threads her body in with Zoë’s. She lets her arms hold her tightly around the waist and tangles their legs together so that she couldn’t leave if she wanted to. A soft smile pulls at the edges of Zoë’s mouth and the urge to do… something with that smile is steadily growing in Artemis’s stomach.

 

She’s never turned down her wild urges before, but this time it feels different. This time the urge isn’t to go for a swim in the ocean at midnight, it’s not to climb as high as she can in the mountains and scream to the world, it’s not to rip open a clamshell and eat the insides raw. It’s not an impulse to be stupid, and raw and human. It’s an urge to press her lips against her lieutenant, to pull her close and run her hands over the full length of her body. It’s the urge to become intimate with Zoë in a way she’s never considered nor ever wanted to.

 

It scares her.

 

“M’lady,” Zoë’s voice is rough and warm, like a good pot of coffee and the urge to again press her mouth into Zoë’s and taste her voice rises in her stomach. She wonders if Zoë tastes like coffee, or perhaps like the rain. Maybe she tastes of stardust, she wonders what that would taste like.

 

Damn.

 

“Yes, dearest,” Artemis’s own voice betrays her. It’s soft in a way she’s never heard herself speak before and wavers in the most unnatural way. Unfortunately for her, Zoë catches on. The smile leaves her mouth only to be replaced with knit eyebrows and a deep frown.

 

“Art thou alright? Thou hast been awfully quiet these past few days.” Her hand moves from around Artemis’s waist to rest on the side of her face. Another animalistic urge to put hers over it grips her. She tightens her hand in the material of Zoë’s nightshirt.

 

“I’ve been… contemplating,” she decides because that’s not technically been a lie. She has been contemplating. Contemplating how much of a mistake it would be to act upon these new impulses that seem to be growing stronger by the day. Zoë’s concerned expression turns to one of understanding.

 

“Does thou have a plan for how to deal with Hades yet?” She asks and bitterly, Artemis shakes her head, turning and straightening herself into a sitting position. Zoë’s frown deepens slightly and she sits up as well. Once upon a time, Zoë’s arms wouldn’t shake when she tried to hold herself up like that. Artemis’s chest aches.

 

“Dearest, he is a madman, but he’s also an intelligent one. He knows we are coming and he has an endless supply of guards. Whatever we do it will have to involve deception and stealth.” Her voice is still soft, but not nearly as wavering. She internally thanks whatever higher power there is out there. Zoë nods, and her eyes are steady, her shoulders set. It is an expression of strength and Artemis finds the familiar expression comforting. Not everything has changed between them.

 

“Perhaps we could use some of Ramirez’s crew as a distraction while we sneak in?” She proposes and Artemis sighs. It's the best bet they have, but that's assuming Ramirez will even agree to hear them out.

 

“That's a problem for another day,” Artemis decides and lays back on the bed. Zoë frowns, fixing Artemis with a questioning look. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but Artemis simply grabs the girl’s waist and pulls her back down beside her.

 

“Dearest, there are too many variables, several we do not know yet, we need time before we can plan.” Artemis presses her face into the crook of Zoë’s neck and drinks in the scent of rain. Zoë shivers but doesn't pull away. Instead, she curls against Artemis, letting her hands settle around her waist once again.

 

“Thou hast become increasingly affectionate. Should I be worried?” Her voice is light, joking, but Artemis can hear the concealed question in her words.

 

“No, dearest,” She whispers and presses her lips against Zoë’s ear. “I’ve simply missed your companionship.”

 

Zoë hums quietly in acknowledgment, turning her face to press it against Artemis’s. Artemis lets the smile tug its way across her face and feels a strange sensation of warmth ignite in her chest. Zoë’s eyes are twin gems of onyx gleaming back at her in the shadow of her undone hair. Strewn over the pillow and in between them, Zoë’s inky locks curl themselves around Artemis’s fingers like rings.

 

The door bangs open, sending Zoë scooting away from Artemis and the captain grumbling slightly in the loss of warmth.

 

“M’lady, imperial ship twelve o’clock!” Diane’s soaked from head to toe and dripping on the carpet. Artemis has half a mind to simply shove her back out the door and go back to bed. Unfortunately, she can’t. With a sigh that could move mountains, Artemis rises from the bed. Zoë attempts to as well, but she doesn’t quite make it to a standing position before she falls back on the bed. Artemis’s chest aches.

 

“Diane, I’ll be out there in a minute,” she murmurs in the direction of her second mate. Diane scowls, it’s an expression that rarely graces her features.

 

“M’Lady, I’m not talking a supply vessel. I’m talking a fully stocked warship.” Her voice is haughty. Artemis scowls.

 

“What the hell is a warship doing this close to Hades's island?” she mutters to herself.

 

“M’lady,” Zoë’s expression is questioning. Artemis feels her shoulders droop.

 

“Dearest, rest. This won't take long,” she promises. Zoë doesn’t look quite convinced.

 

“I can-”

 

“Captain.” Diane’s voice reminds her of the situation. Zoë bites her bottom lip. Artemis sighs and turns towards Diane.

 

“Send someone back in here. If we’re to engage in combat she’ll need a defense.” With that, she shrugs on her coat, wrestles into her boots, and makes her way onto the drizzling deck.

 

It’s a tower of polished wood on the horizon. Artemis can see the ocean roiling beneath the ship as if it brought the storm with it. Thunder cracks, lightning flashes, the sea roars loudly and unpleasantly, however, the waves still fail to reach Artemis’s boat, as if the illusion of tranquility is reluctant to leave.

 

Artemis recognizes the ship’s flag, the Imperial Majesty, but she still can’t quite figure out what such a ship would be doing this close to a well-known pirate outpost, especially alone. Sure, she could understand a fleet showing up to take it down, or at least to attempt it, but a single forlorn warship is hardly practical.

 

“Cynthia,” she calls, looking up at her helmsman. She’s currently perched among the ratlines, ankles and wrist wrapped up in the ropes as she holds a spyglass to her face. For a moment Artemis is struck with the image of a slightly taller girl in her place, short black hair whipping wildly in the storm. She blinks and it’s gone in an instant, leaving her staring up at Cynthia's freely flowing caramel locks. She frowns.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Captain,” she murmurs, “the rain’s too intense, I can’t see anything. It looks like some people are arguing on deck, but that’s all I can make out.”

 

Artemis frowns.

 

“Perhaps a crew in the middle of a raid?” Diane suggests, “Hades does have a couple crews about, they could be bringing in one of his prizes.”

 

“Nah,” Cynthia mutters, still squinting through the spyglass. “I can see their red coats, it’s still a Navy ship.”

 

Artemis motions for Harper to hand her another spyglass. Once she gets it she calmly ascends to Cynthia’s height and squints through the glass herself, struggling to focus it for a moment.

 

She can just barely make out a blur of red and purple standing next to each other, presumably arguing given the red blur’s exaggerated gestures. Several much darker shapes are watching from the side of the deck, but none make any move to interrupt the two still arguing, leaving Artemis to believe they are of equal power aboard the ship and therefore have equal sway. She watches as the red blur’s gestures get more and more exaggerated until the purple blur stops it with one quick movement. The red blur freezes, then deflates, before finally bowing a blonde head in defeat.

 

“I don’t know of any positions aboard an Imperial fleet that boast a purple uniform,” Cynthia murmurs and Artemis grunts in agreement. It can’t be a civilian because there’s no way a civilian would be able to argue with the captain of a crew like that unless they were royalty, and there’s no way in hell British royalty would show up near Hades’s island. Unless they had a death wish or were a certain British Princess turned pirate. She needs to stop bringing that up or she’s going to drive herself mad with grief.

 

“Captain,” Diane called and, ever so slowly, Artemis lowered her gaze from the ship to look at her second mate. Diane’s expression was set firmly into one of overconfidence, one that Artemis was all too familiar with by now. “Are we going to take them or not?”

 

Artemis sighs, “I’ve got a feeling these Imperials aren’t here for Hades,” she murmurs and slides down the ratlines, taking pleasure in the familiar sound of her boots hitting the deck. Diane knits her brows.

 

“Why would they be hunting us?” she questions and Artemis hands Harper back her spyglass.

 

“There’s a familiar purple coat on that ship, and if I knew anything about our resident Princess, she had friends in the British navy,” Artemis isn’t entirely sure she knows what to make of the incredulous expression pulling its way across Diane’s face.

 

“So what are we supposed to do, wait for them to get over here and sit down for afternoon tea?!” she questions and Artemis rolls her eyes.

 

“Overdramatic much, Diane?” she questions and she ducks her head slightly. She speaks with something of desperation and apology.

 

“Sorry, Cap, but we’ve been on this wild goose chase for four months now, and while we are all glad to have Zoë back with us, we’re getting restless. We can’t just wait around for her to recover and rescue our wayward princess. We don’t have the means, supplies, or the energy. We are  _tired,_  Artemis. We need time, on land, to recharge, sooner or later or the young ones are going to start dropping like flies.”

 

Artemis’s blessing wards off most illness, but even her magic can only stave off the effects of malnutrition for so long. She swallows heavily and squares her shoulders.

 

“After we get that shi over here we’ll pool our supplies, if there is still not enough to go around I’ll send you out to retrieve supplies on your own,” she murmurs and Diane nods, chin jutting upwards slightly in an attempt to be on par with Artemis, but there isn’t really a need. Artemis can feel exhaustion pulling at her bones, pulling her downwards towards the deck. Age falls over her shoulders to mirror the exhaustion in her bones, and at this point the feeling is natural.

 

She ignores the vague looks of concern from her older hunters who recognize her form as one of the oldest she’s taken in a long time. Late twenties most likely, when Hades had taken Zoë the first time she’d gone so far as to reach middle age, a factor that had scared the daylights out of Cynthia and Diane.

 

“MC, Harper, fly a white flag, everyone else, retrieve your weapons and take up positions, they might be friendly, but we still want to appear prepared.” There’s a chorus of, “yes ma’am”’s before her Hunters have all scrambled off to their duties. Artemis, worn and beginning to feel the ice of the rain settling into her bones, makes her way up the poop deck to observe the enclosing waves.

 

~♖~

 

Jason had seen a lot of thing in his life, but even he had to admit the Hunter’s ship was impressive. As far as Pirate ships went it was ginormous, lit by nothing more than occasional cracks of lightning and its own fiery lanterns glistening in the cloud darkened light, it looked like a ghost on the waves. Shadows cast all about weathered oak wood and tattered sails hanging from it’s three towering masts. Each crack of lighting lit it up in such a manner that the wood turned white and the jolly roger gleamed back in all its silver glory, bow pointed skywards towards a white moon.

 

That being said, the white surrender flag flying in the sky was just as hard to miss.

 

Reyna’s words are ringing in his head the whole while, “I don’t care if that woman is responsible or not, she took My Thalia and she will pay for it, whether we get her back first or later, she will pay.”

 

The words make Jason feel dizzy. He’d seen the Pirate captain display many emotions and many words over the past few weeks, but never did he such a clear threat from the Captain’s tongue. With her gaze set on the encroaching ship, all Jason could do was watch as she gripped tighter and tighter on her sword’s hilt. Lightning flashed, turning the sky white and Reyna’s silhouette towered over him, turning the girl into a mountain.

 

Jason had only felt this powerless once before.

 

He’d been twelve at the time, watching for the first time his father displayed his power. Turning the London sky into a hurricane, setting the world aflame with cracks of lightning and roars of thunder so loud that Jason’s ears had rung for days afterward. And he’d stood, directly beside the man responsible, watching as the world was about to end right in front of him.

 

Aflame, alight, alone. Jason was alone with a god for a father.

 

A god.

 

Reyna’s shoulders are wide and her face was set in a grim demeanor that reminds Jason very much of his father, and for a moment he’s struck with a terrible idea. As far as he knew, Spain's monarch wasn’t currently one of the matriarchs, and, if he remembers correctly. Reyna was a descendant of one of Spain’s noble houses.

 

Was it possible…

 

But that would mean that…

 

There’s no way.

 

But Jason certainly didn’t bring the storm.

 

He remembers Rachel’s prophecy and glances for a moment at Reyna’s crewmates, wondering mutedly which ones these children are. Annabeth Chase could certainly be one of them, that would not surprise Jason at all, and even Nico, in all his gloomy glory, wouldn’t be that far fetched. But Hazel, Frank, and Will, he finds that harder to believe. Especially when he’s seen gods rip each other limb from limb and the worst he’s seen Hazel do is offer someone a piece of bread with a little mold on it.

 

War, Death, The King, Life, Sun, Storm, Moon, and Stars.

 

He recalls the words and racks his brain desperately. He’d peg himself as The King, and if he was The King, then Thalia had to be Storm. But War, Death, he had no clue.

 

But he knew one thing.

 

He didn’t bring the storm.

 

Reyna did.

  
~↑~

 

It’s a burning sensation traveling it’s way down her throat and taking refuge in her stomach. Burning, boiling, and ripping its way throughout her entire body. She’s encountered Artemis before, faced her, fought her, but for some reason seeing the woman standing before her in all her moon illuminated glory, makes her entire body burn with a rage so prominent she’s only felt it once before.

 

This entire situation feels all too familiar and that just makes it worse. The roaring waves, the clapping thunder, the rain pelting the deck as if it can penetrate it and take their ship down with it. Distantly, Reyna registers that as their ships get closer the storm begins to lessen, but she’s too focused on the burning in her chest to even begin to question the implications of such. All she can see is Artemis. Artemis and her damn impassive expression.

 

She can’t get a read on the goddess and that just makes her burn more.

 

“Captain Ramirez,” Artemis’s voice is nothing more than a murmur, but it somehow still makes its way across the ocean to rest in Reyna’s ears. She feels her hands tighten on her sword, any tighter and she might bend the metal.

 

“Artemis.” she spits back. Artemis’s left brow twitches ever so slightly.

 

“What are you doing with an imperial ship?”

 

“Someone managed to wreck Festus on a desert Island,” she murmurs accusingly. With all the swagger she can muster she paces to the end of the deck, standing parallel to the Goddess. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

 

Artemis’s eyes are just as cold as Reyna remembers them, but there’s less of a desperation to her, instead, there’s a sort of solemness. One that Reyna’s only seen twice before, but both of the other people were dead.

 

“What happened to your leg, Ramirez?” Artemis mutters, pointedly ignoring her accusation. Reyna narrows her eyes.

 

“What happened to your age?” she snarls back. She watches a couple of Artemis’s hunters tense, reaching for their weapons. A girl with dark hair steps up behind Artemis, opening her mouth as if to speak. Artemis raises a hand, effectively silencing her.

 

“I am not your enemy here, Reyna.”

 

Her words are calm, kind even, and it just makes the boiling feeling worse. Thunder cracks overhead. Reyna can feel her fingernails digging into the hilt of her sword.

 

“You should’ve thought of that before you took my first mate.”

 

A few of Artemis’s hunters tense, looking ready to attack, but again Artemis silences them with just a twitch of her fingers. Reyna can see Annabeth pulling out her dagger from the corner of her eye. She makes no movements to stop her.

 

“We can still get her back, but if we come to blows here, neither of us will be able to recover her. Hades does not bargain when he already has what he wants.”

 

Reyna knows she speaks truth, but oh God, does she want to sink her sword hilt deep in her face, even if she can’t kill her, she’d damn well like to give her a good scar.

 

“What is it you propose we do then? Fight the king of death in his own territory? Where we do not know our way around and he has the upper hand at every turn?” She questions.

 

Before Artemis can answer there’s a sudden clamor aboard Artemis’s ship and a girl with bright red hair comes skidding down from the crows nest, she’s winded and her cheeks are aflame from over exhaustion.

 

“Captain,” she breathes, eyes trained on Artemis. Artemis’s shoulders square as she gives the girl a disapproving glare, clearly not happy about being interrupted.

 

“What is it, Phoebe.” She says the girl’s name like it’s a threat.

 

She swallows visibly and wrings out her hands. “Sh-Ship approaching from Hades's island.”

 

Artemis’s hand drifts towards the daggers held at her belt, lips pursing.

 

“What kind of ship?” she asks and the girl twitches nervously, licking her lips. Reyna finally recognizes her as the girl she’d stabbed aboard her ship during Artemis’s initial attack.

 

“Nothing large ma’am, it looks as if someone is attempting to escape the island, They’re heading this way.”

 

“What kind of idiot would try to get out here on a rowboat during a thunderstorm?” Artemis questions and a few of her hunters laugh nervously.

 

“Your Highness,” another voice interrupts and Reyna turns in time to catch a sailor boy running to Jason, breathing heavily. “It’s Lady Dare-” he’s barely even started to speak before Jason rises, eyebrows knit in concentration.

 

“Your Highness?” Artemis interrupts, eyes zeroed in on Jason like a cat who’s finally spotted a mouse. Instinctively Reyna steps in front of him. Instead of greed, however, she finds something like fear in her gaze. “What is a Child of Zeus doing all the way out here going to face Hades? How stupid are you boy, did your father tell you nothing of your heritage. Of what it means to be his son and come  _here_?” Her voice is ranging dangerously close to upset. Artemis can see veins pulsing beneath her skin.

 

“My father does not determine my actions,” he snaps back and that seems to finally set them off. The girl who’d tried to speak earlier draws her sword, arrows peg into the floorboards between Reyna’s feet.

 

“You do not speak in our Captain’s presence,” she snarls. There’s a collective cheer of agreement from the hunters. Artemis holds up her hand for silence.

 

“Diane that is quite enough,” she murmurs to the girl beside her. Diane does not look pleased.

 

“Captain,” she tries to argue, but Artemis simply gives her a look and she sighs, still not looking happy about it. She throws another glare in Jason’s direction.

 

“You are a fool, child of Zeus,” Artemis says calmly once the hunters have settled down once again. In a single, graceful move, Artemis drops onto their deck, boots scarcely making a sound. Reyna is reminded vaguely of her sister, pacing towards their father, eyes glinting with the intent to kill. “Your father may be an idiot, but even he knows better to venture into his brother’s territory.”

 

“I’ve done it before,” another voice speaks and all eyes turn to land on Will. He doesn’t look very good Reyna notices suddenly. His skin is pale and his body covered in sweat. Reyna can’t tell for the life of her why that expression of fear looks too familiar. A few hunters grumble about him speaking, but unlike with Jason, Artemis doesn’t look at him disapprovingly. In fact, she notes recognition in her face.

 

“Hello dear nephew,” she murmurs and Reyna straightens like a board, giving Will an incredulous look, but he looks just as surprised as she does.

 

“Neph-” Will starts, but Jason murmurs something too soft for anyone except Reyna to catch.

 

“Sun.”

 

She tries to give him another look, but Artemis commands her attention again by resting her hand on her sword.

 

“What were you doing in Hades's territory?” she questions and Will swallows.

 

“He kidnapped me,” he murmurs, and Artemis’s eyebrows raise, she looks vaguely impressed.

 

“And you escaped?” she questions and Will shakes his head slowly. Reyna furrows her brow. He’d always told her he had. She certainly hadn’t rescued him.

 

“He let me go,” he whispers and now all eyes are on Will, in particular, Nico’s. Nico looks the most confused she’s ever seen him. Artemis furrows her brows.

 

“And why would he do that?” she asks, it’s not an accusation, a genuine question.

 

“Hades isn’t heartless,” he whispers, almost too soft to hear. “If nothing else he cares for the happiness of his children.” Will’s eyes slowly rise from the deck to meet Nico’s. Nico’s eyes widen. Artemis’s gaze softens slightly.

 

“That he does,” she whispers and finally turns her attention back to Reyna.

 

“Captain Ramirez, I think we found out way in.” Before she can question it, Artemis nods towards Nico and Reyna gets it.

 

They have his son.


End file.
